


The Weight of Shadows

by thatdamnuchiha



Series: And the Fire it Burns Bright [2]
Category: Naruto, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Crossover, Crossover Pairings, Dimension Travel, F/M, Fluff, Haruno Sakura Tries Her Best, Haruno Sakura-centric, Not Canon Compliant, POV Haruno Sakura, Past Lives, Pining, Rare Pairings, Redemption, Reincarnation, Rivendell | Imladris, Sakura is an Angsty Bean, Slow Build, Slow Burn, be a shame if something happened to it, nice canon you got there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 25,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25430269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatdamnuchiha/pseuds/thatdamnuchiha
Summary: It’s her last chance to make amends in that world, before she starts burning up her body at birth.With every cycle past, her mortal form in Arda grows that much more unstable, giving her that much shorter of a life before she turns her body to ash. Her soul is too strong, and too ill-suited for that which she reincarnates into. Still, her good deed to complete in that lifetime is fairly simple – she just needs to get one Frodo Baggins and what he carries to Rivendell with the aid of her chieftain. A simple task, no?Well, it would be, if her rather extensive past there doesn’t decide to catch up with her first.
Relationships: Aragorn | Estel & Haruno Sakura, Galadriel | Artanis & Haruno Sakura, Gandalf | Mithrandir & Haruno Sakura, Glorfindel (Tolkien)/Haruno Sakura
Series: And the Fire it Burns Bright [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1837306
Comments: 75
Kudos: 486
Collections: Ashes' Library, Down The Rabbit Hole, Elf Lords and Mary Sues (smh my head), Of Tales and Tears, The Many Iterations of Haruno Sakura





	1. I can't undo what has been done

**Author's Note:**

> Yay. Part two is here already... and I'll warn you now, I'll be flitting between three of Sakura's past lives here (so pay attention to the Life # since it'll tell you which one is being focused on). Sakura's had nine lives there (including her current one), and there will be flashbacks to the others, but the main focus will be only on three lives - which should hopefully make things a bit simpler.
> 
> And yes, this is yet another long fic, and it will be a while until we get to the romance, because it's kind of a slow burn and a slow build.
> 
> And yes, Sakura is rather angsty in this fic too.
> 
> Whoops.

_Life #9000_

A hum escaped her as the two of them sat in the Prancing Pony, a noisy little inn found in the quaint little village of Bree. Sakura had, by that point in time, found great amusement in playing with her drink. _Like a child,_ of so her Chieftain had told her with an amused fondness come from being forced to bear with her unusual company for a good few years. That fondness was like a dagger to her chest, an open wound in the making – because he would leave her. They always did. She could hardly live amongst her once-kin as mortal as she was.

Few could even recognise her, what with how she concealed her chakra. _How she concealed the true nature of her soul from curious, prying eyes._ It was why she strived to avoid the elves, her once-kin, what with their ability to perceive the Unseen, unlike her current mortal brethren.

It was necessary for her to conceal and repress the power which dwelled in her spirit after all her reincarnations, because it burnt her from the inside out. No mortal body in those lands was made to withstand that amount of power, and her skin trembled under the strain. Concealing her true nature and pushing her power down was only a temporary stopgap though, and Sakura knew all too soon her form would crumble to ash. _And she was barely out of her teenage years in that cycle._

Closing her eyes, she pushed those thoughts and fears away. It never did to dwell on those thoughts – it wasn’t like she herself could do anything about them. She’d had years of trying to stop her cycle of reincarnation in its tracks, and she had come to a realisation that short of a higher power interfering, she was stuck in a seemingly infinite loop. _And her window of opportunity to bind her fate with Arda’s had almost run out._

Sakura supposed she deserved it somewhat, after the mess which had been Life Two Thousand. That had not been a good cycle, despite her return to Arda. Though she hadn’t realised that much at the time. Instead, her thousand-cycle anger had been unleashed upon the world that had stirred it up in the first place, and it had brought nothing but more grief in hindsight. That was always the trouble, well it had been, but the last few thousand odd cycles had taught her the value of patience.

_Manipulating Danzo like a puppet on strings until he reached the moment of his final demise… and then detailing exactly what she had done to ensure he reached that point in the ensuing monologue…_ A happy look crossed her face, a contented sigh escaping her at the many faces Danzo had made in all of the later cycles she had been through at that moment. _He did far too much wrong in pretty much all of her many reincarnations within Konoha, and she was always so very happy to take care of the trash._

“So,” she finally spoke, staring at her grim-faced companion. “When exactly are you going to tell me of what we’re doing here, of all places?” She sipped at the beer, humming once more as she judged it to be worthy of the Butterbur’s who’d come before him – not that she could remember all of them. Rarely in her last incarnations had she stopped in Bree for too long.

“We are waiting on a certain someone,” Aragorn said, keeping his eyes fixed on the entranceway to the inn. “Gandalf requested my aid. He said it was of vital importance… _and given what he carries…”_ The last part was a murmur, barely audible over the din of the room.

“Hmm… Mithrandir, eh?” she mumbled, crossing and uncrossing her legs as she waited for her illustrious leader to spill the vague description of the one they were apparently waiting on. “I don’t suppose the wizard will be meeting us wherever it is we’re going.”

Aragorn nodded then. “He will meet us. When, I am not certain, but there is no doubt he will find us – whether it be once we’ve reached our destination, or on the way to it,” he said, and Sakura hummed in contemplation. Rare was it, that she interacted with one of the Istari – though of their number, she had only ever properly spoken with Mithrandir, as he was known to the elves as. The other folk called him Gandalf. Either name was fine, though she took care not to call the wizard by his maia name. _Not in front of others, where it would raise too many questions._

It had been a while since she had last spoken with him – Life Five Thousand, if her memory didn’t fail her. _Or was it Life Six Thousand?_ She had mostly stuck to the north in that one, where the drakes dwelled, far away from most civilisations. It had been a solitary life that she, as Glawarien, had lived. But it hadn’t stopped her from striving to protect the free folk of Arda from the threat of those dragons.

Dragons had taken too much from her, and she had a grudge. _A worthier one than her last, if there was ever such a thing as a worthy grudge…_

“You know, you never told me where it is we’re headed,” she said, staring at him pointedly, but Aragorn didn’t crack. Instead, he merely raised an eyebrow. Sakura felt her heart sink. “There are few reasons we would be in Bree… and even fewer places we could guide someone to from here…” She folded her arms, tapping her finger against her stiff sleeve as dread settled into the pit of her stomach. “It’s Rivendell, isn’t it?”

Aragorn hummed, ever evasive – as he was whenever he needed her help and involved her with elves, and for what he saw to be a good reason, no doubt. She stayed as far away from elves as possible, especially the golden-haired ones.

“Do you really require my assistance here, or do you just enjoy tormenting me?” Sakura asked, raising an eyebrow in question. “Because I’m leaning towards the latter.”

He sighed then, no doubt fed up with her and her desire to _avoid_ elves. To avoid the feelings of jealousy, longing, sadness, regret, and other miserable emotions. _Because unless Eru intervened himself, she knew she would never see the Blessed Lands again. She would never share the fate of her once-kin, no matter how she wished it so._ “You are one of the few I know I can trust with this matter,” he said, closing his eyes as a commotion erupted on the other side of the room. “So, please just keep your eyes peeled for a hobbit who will likely be travelling under the name of Mr—”

“—Underhill!”

Aragorn swivelled in his seat, and Sakura snorted into her drink. “Have fun, my dear Chieftain,” she said, lifting her mug up in mock salute as she watched the older man – in body there, at least – climb to his feet in order to rescue their mysterious adventurous hobbit from whatever fate which had befallen him.

* * *

_She spat out a mouthful of water, glaring up at the retreating figure of the white swan as it strode back away from the decking which branched over the little lake somewhat. Never had she hated the feathery white creatures as much as she had in that instant. Though it wasn’t like she hated all of the swans. Just that one in particular._

_Really, she would swear that Lord Ecthelion spoiled it far too much. Which was probably why it had become as rowdy as it had – when not in front of the elf himself, that was. Whenever the raven-haired elf lord appeared before the blasted creature, it behaved almost angelically. Sakura had simply had the misfortune of encountering it without its owner present._

_Sighing softly, she swam back towards the decking, intent on pulling herself up and out of the waters, but she soon discovered the irritating bird had found yet another victim to chase into the lake. Such was its hobby, or so it seemed._

_They entered the waters with a loud splash, and Sakura felt a thrum of longing as she caught a flash of long golden locks. It wasn’t that common of a colouring, especially amongst the Noldor, so it didn’t take too long to work out which unfortunate soul had joined her in drinking lake water._

_He broke the surface with a gasp, the chilly waters having no doubt stolen the breath from him as they had from her only a matter of minutes beforehand._

_She laughed then, never having seen the elf lord look as dishevelled as he did in that instant, golden locks plastered to his head, half concealing those grey eyes which soon turned to face her as the sound of her tinkling laughter rang through the air. “Ai, I see that blasted swan has claimed yet another victim,” she said, voice light and teasing, and she was rewarded with one of the breath-taking smiles he was so well-known for._

_“So it would seem,” he spoke then, accepting her good-natured teasing for what it was._

_A shadow fell over them then, and Sakura was greeted with an arched eyebrow as the lord of her household stared at their sodden forms. “What on Arda happened to the pair of you?” Rog enquired, and Sakura only held her breath as a swan honked behind the elf, the sound closely followed by a yelp of pain, and then yet another splash of water as the red-haired elf lord joined them in the lake._

_Sakura chuckled again, another voice joining in with hers as he surfaced, pushing his hair back from his eyes. “That, My Lord, is what befell us all,” she said, smile only widening at the slight twitch she could spy in his face as he opened his mouth._

_“Ecthelion!” he bellowed, glaring over at the dark-haired figure making their way out to the garden. “Call that blasted swan of yours off already!”_

* * *

Sakura snorted, hating the tears that crept into the corners of her eyes at the memory. Her heart ached, longing and loneliness clawing at her chest as she remembered Silifaloth – the evilest swan she had ever had the misfortune of encountering. It was so different to how she remembered swans interacting with her in her first cycle in that timeline.

She blamed the change in reaction on Life Two Thousand.

She blamed it on the anger she had held onto for far too long. She hadn’t thought that she would reincarnate into the same timeline. She hadn’t realised what the consequences for her actions would be – because they were there. Every time she looked in the mirror, she could see the proof that the shadows of her past still lingered. After Life Two Thousand her colouring had always been the same in those cycles in that world. Black hair, and black eyes.

That had been unnerving colouring for an elf, in her one elven incarnation after Life Two Thousand. After Life Three Thousand though, she had been born a mortal. And mortal bodies, as she had soon found out, weren’t half as sturdy as elven ones. _That was undoubtedly the reason why she had crumbled to dust before she could reach an old age in Life Four Thousand._

With every cycle passed, the strength of her soul became that much stronger, which meant her body wore thinner that much faster. Life Nine Thousand was the last where she would be able to see adulthood, that was for certain. Longing hit her then, right in the gut, but it was a mental pain rather than the physical sort she preferred. _Mental pain lasted longer. It hurt more, because it felt like it wounded her very soul._

“Gondolin,” she murmured then, peering into her mug, staring down into the vague reflection the amber liquid showed her – as if it might reveal that long lost white city. “Ah, how I miss you so…” She closed her eyes, smiling at the thought of Life Three Thousand. It had been rather peaceful until its untimely end. Her hands twitched, and Sakura found herself longing for her war hammer. She missed the familiar weight of it, and sadly, she knew exactly where it waited for her. _Rivendell, of course._

With the elves she didn’t want to see.

Not after Life Eight Thousand and its ending.

_“Why?”_

She could still hear his voice, almost a snarl. She could still remember his scent as he held her close. She could still feel his fingers digging into her arms as he begged for answers. Answers she couldn’t give him.

_“Why do you resemble them so?”_

Sakura closed her eyes then for what had to be the hundredth time that day, hating the way those grey eyes bore into her. They had been such a pale shade of grey and had often seemed like they glowed. Eyes which held wisdom, pain, confusion, and longing.

_“What sort of foul trickery is this?”_

“No trickery here,” she muttered, knowing she was years to late to answer that question. “Just my cursed fate… and for what it’s worth, I never meant to get you mixed up in it.” Sakura chuckled, silently wondering why she was speaking to him like he was actually there. _If she was lucky, she wouldn’t wind up bumping into him again… she wouldn’t give him hope of yet another meeting, when her body was already failing her at such a young age…_

_“Moriel… Glawarien… Níroliel… Glosuien…”_

Sakura smiled, remembering her words to him then, no matter how the memory tore at her heart. _“You’re missing the most important one.”_

She winced then, praying she would never encounter the golden-haired elf who no doubt hated her so. _How could he not after what she had told him?_ Sakura drank the rest of her beer, slamming the tankard down on the table, as if that could erase the memory from the depths of her mind.

_“I’m a monster, don’t you see?”_


	2. the crickets sing a song for you

_Life #5000_

Sparks of a fire erupted from the flint she had been trying to coax a flame with, and Sakura could only sigh in relief as it caught light on the kindling placed at intervals amidst the dry branches they had collected. Her fingers were cold, the winter biting at them until she shoved them back inside her gloves – her task complete. “Done,” she announced to her companions, a wide smile on her face.

Elentir, the leader of their little expedition north, arrived back then, leading a group of men back with him. He was of númenórean blood, unlike a number of their small company, and it showed in his very bearing. Tall he was, his eyes an oceanic blue, his gait careful and almost silent. Sakura was begrudgingly impressed by the last. Admittedly, she could move just as silently _without_ chakra, but she had lifetimes in which to practice that skill unto perfection. Elentir hadn’t.

“Just in time too, it seems,” she remarked, nodding to her leader as he came and sat with them, leading the last of the men to join them all at the fire’s warmth. “Hail, and well met friends,” she said, smiling welcomingly at the new arrivals.

“Do we bring whores on expeditions to slay dragons now?” one of the new arrivals enquired, scoffing at her. Sakura only rolled her eyes at the comment, even as Elentir spoke.

“She is one of my trusted companions who has seen me through peril and strife,” he said, and Sakura was fondly reminded of the few times she had saved his life, whether from fell wolves which too often plagued Eriador, or the orcs who were growing increasingly bold as the skirmishes between Morgoth’s corrupted maia and the free folk of Arda raged on in the Second Age. “I would take care not to refer to her as you have just, for she is not a woman to be trifled with.”

It had been thousands of years since her last incarnation in that timeline, on the back end of the First Age and the very earliest years of the Second Age – before her body had mysteriously crumbled to ash. An effect, she had soon learnt, was due to how powerful her soul was. She wasn’t meant for mortal bodies. She was an existence from _outside_ Arda in every sense of the word, and Sakura had no doubt her body would have to be just as unique to contain her soul. Sadly, she was stuck in mortal bodies, but Sakura supposed that was what she got.

She unleashed her thousand-cycle rage upon the world which she thought seemed awfully similar, and now she was paying the consequences of her actions then. A sigh escaped her, low and long, and Sakura jumped in surprise as she noticed the calloused hand waving in front of her face to get her attention.

“Hey there.” Whiskered cheeks split into a mirthful, _familiar_ grin, locks of the brightest blonde spilling down his back so much longer than she remembered. “Your name is Lothien, right?”

“Naruto?” Sakura blinked, casting her gaze away from those azure blue eyes which seemed to shine as brightly as she remembered from all of her past cycles involving one Uzumaki Naruto. But that was impossible, because this wasn’t a cycle in the Elemental Nations. She was in Arda, and as such, Uzumaki Naruto couldn’t exist there. “Sorry… I don’t believe I caught your name—?” her voice cut off, and she shrank back under the stare from the face which was suddenly far too close to her own.

“Sasuke?”

Sakura froze at the hesitant question, heart thudding so audibly as blood rushed to her head. “Impossible,” she whispered.

“So it is you,” Naruto chirped, a grin appearing on his face, but Sakura held a hand up, gesturing for him to stop talking before things became too muddled. She didn’t understand what was going on. _She’d never met anyone who had seemingly been reincarnated too…_ Sakura swallowed then, nervous. _Did that mean she wasn’t the only one?_

“Sakura,” she corrected. “I’m Sakura or did _Lothien_ not give it away?” she asked, a smile on her face as she wondered what life this Naruto was from. Silently, she prayed it was from one of the ones where she’d been a good teammate. _And from one of the ones where he actually knew who she was, otherwise, it would be a tad awkward to explain…_

Fortunately, he knew, and he was rather pleased to see her – hence why she assumed he was from one of those cycles, or another, similar one. He greeted her as one did an old friend, and Sakura could only laugh as he recounted tales from _their_ previous life. Vaguely, it stirred memories up, but the Elemental Nation Cycles were too common, and most of them were much too similar.

“So, how many times have you reincarnated?” she asked, even as they sat a little apart from the main group of their expedition. _Was this his first thousand? Or had she missed him before?_

Naruto tilted his head then, confusion written all over his face. “What’d you mean how many times have I reincarnated? This is the first one!” He laughed then, but it soon died away as he realised she wasn’t laughing with him. “If you’re here, then Sasuke must be too… You think we’ve all reincarnated here together? The good ol’ Team Seven luck, eh?”

Sakura’s smile felt as though it was frozen to her face. _Because it was different,_ his situation, that was. “Naruto,” she said. _Her voice felt so far away._ “This is my five-thousandth rebirth… and it’s the only time I’ve come across another reborn soul.”

He frowned at her then, before he broke into laughter, rowdy and heartful laughter. “That’s a mean joke, Sakura!” He chuckled. “There’s no way someone would be able to stay sane through _five thousand_ lives. How would they even count them? You’d lose track of them, that’s for sure.”

“Naruto—”

“Do you reckon Sasuke’s appearance has changed too?” he asked, smiling at her so sweetly that she let the issue drop. _Maybe it was better for him to be ignorant to what she had been through? Maybe it was for the best that he didn’t know how many times she’d met an untimely end?_

She only smiled then, deciding she could indulge him. “Who knows?” she murmured. “I guess we’ll know when we find him…”

Naruto was an optimist. Always had been, and he probably always would be. Sakura had learnt to adjust, and she was slowly learning the value of temperance and patience. She had learnt optimism after so many cycles of death and rebirth. _She had learnt to find her own joy in bleak worlds, because she refused to sink into the lethargy-inducing clutches of depression – when every day was a struggle to climb out of bed and face the horrors of whichever world she lived in._

Who knew? Maybe Sasuke would be there too.

Sakura wasn’t holding out too much hope for that. She was simply glad to see a familiar face in a world it wasn’t supposed to be in. _Maybe she could figure out a way to bind Naruto’s fate to that of Arda? That of the elves’…_ Then he wouldn’t be forced to enter the same cycle that she had. _Well, if it was the same cycle of death and rebirth she was stuck within._

A smile curled at her lips then, wider than she remembered. “I’m glad you’re here, Naruto,” she said, basking in the warmth of the familiar grin send her way in response.

* * *

_“Oh, foolish little lost star…”_

* * *

_Life #7000_

Dragons.

It was always dragons, or so Sakura found. Her fate seemed to be tied to them in some manner, or some strange form. Life Six Thousand had been dedicated entirely to dealing with their threat in the north. Something of a mistake, that decision had been, she realised in hindsight – because she was actually fairly good at slaying the damned things, even without her trusty war hammer from Life Three Thousand.

A sad smile curled at her lips, and Sakura ignored the surge of longing which always accompanied the thoughts of Gondolin. _She wanted to go back there. She wanted to serve under her lord once more. She wanted to be able to laugh with her kin, without fear of her body eventually failing her._ But this was her penance.

Her eyes narrowed, tears wanting to bite at the corners of her eyes as she recalled her few conversations in her last life in that timeline. With the only other reborn being on Arda currently. Though his rebirth hadn’t been anything like hers. Instead, his death and subsequent embodiment was all done exactly how it should have been. _Exactly like hers should have been for the first and third of her lives there._

But her soul was lost to the Eldar, and they mourned her passing.

Laethiel, they called her. _Lost daughter._ Her brief interactions with her old kin had told her of that much. There wasn’t a Noldor alive who didn’t know of her tale – because she was one of their ancestor’s greatest crimes. _Because by slaying her in Alqualondë, they had ensured she was forever lost to them. To the Valar who governed them so._

Her anger at them had long since dried up. The main perpetrator behind her death was locked in the Halls of Mandos, never to return until the last days were upon them. She would have probably been in there, if not for the seemingly flighty nature of her soul.

Dimly, Sakura wondered how long she would have had to stay in there after all her lifetimes up until then. A short burst of laughter escaped her lips. _Probably until the end of days themselves, with the one whose orders had called for her death and those of her mother’s kin._

“Glosuien!”

The sound of her name being called had her turning to face her chieftain. Aravir stood before her, tall, dark-haired, his bearing that of a king. _Heir of Isildur._ King without a crown. Descendant of the line of Elros. He would not reclaim his throne though, despite the relative peace of the lands around them. That duty would be passed on to his descendants.

“Your sword broke in the skirmish with those trolls,” Aravir reminded her, and Sakura scowled as she stared at her discarded, broken sword. “And we still have a dragon to hunt…”

He didn’t need to remind her. _Yet another mistake – one she only realised in hindsight._ Her hunting of dragons in Life Six Thousand had resulted in some of them migrating down through the mountains to escape. The very thing she had been trying to prevent by culling their numbers.

“You say that like it will be that simple,” she murmured, silently grateful the strength of the dragons had waned with their master’s demise. Their poisonous tongues weren’t as strong and were somewhat easier to resist. _Not that dragons were suddenly easy opponents._ But the changes from the dragons of the First Age were there.

“It will not be,” he said, eyes narrowing on something off in the distance. “Though I suspect you will fare better should you have a blade to aid you.”

Sakura raised an eyebrow in question.

“We found the troll hoard…”

Her nose wrinkled. “You expect me to willingly venture into a troll hoard?” she asked, earning a bark of laughter from the man.

“Nay, good lady,” he said, gesturing to the weapons lain on a cloth sheet atop the ground. “They have been brought out for your inspection… though you aren’t the only one who will be using one of these fine blades, so make your pick quickly. Achardir owes me a favour.”

* * *

_“Can you not hear?”_

* * *

Sakura blinked, a frown crinkling her brow as she looked between the small assortment of elven blades which had been rescued from the troll hoard.

A glint of light off the blade made one catch her eye, and she sucked in a sharp breath as she reached for the familiar handle. Lifting it from the ground, her hand closed around the grip. _It fit perfectly in her hand._

Like it had never left it.

She chuckled then, sliding the wickedly sharp blade from its sturdy sheath which had the sigil of the House of the Hammer of Wrath delicately crafted upon it. She felt it then – pride. Pride at having belonged to such a house, because they had fought to the last man, uncaring even as their route of escape was cut off by Gothmog’s counterattack. Rog had led them on. Her smile turned bitter then, recounting those memories. _She had been the last one standing on the soft grass of Tumladen, the Valley of Smoothness hidden away in the Encircling Mountains which had concealed that beautiful white city._

“How I’ve missed you so,” she murmured, other hand clenching at nothing when there should have been a war hammer there in her grasp. She had never bothered with a shield, unlike many of her kin.

The blade gleamed in the light, one side carved with its name, while the other held the phase she had all but demanded Rog carve into it.

_“Ever the dramatic one, you are,”_ he had murmured, shaking his head in amused fondness at her request. _“So be it… but know that this will be written on your blade forever.”_

“Bloodied are the hands which wield this blade…” she said, translating the clear elvish script. _A reminder of her past crimes._ She turned the blade to its other side, staring at the single word carved there into the metal.

_Agarwaen._

* * *

_“Can you not see?”_

* * *

They were going to slay a dragon.

Of course he was going to be there.

Their Golden Hero of the First Age, emissary of the Valar.

Sakura cursed bitterly at the notice that they would be meeting with the rest of the contingent of elves who had been sent to remove the dragon, given its unfortunate proximity to their realm. She should have figured it out sooner. She should have run away when she had the chance.

_“They say your name is Glawarien,” he said, offering out his hand as though the very visage of him didn’t break her heart. As though he didn’t remind her of a city long dead. As though he didn’t remind her of everything she could no longer have. “Glawarien Dragonslayer.”_

_She closed her eyes. “I care not for titles.”_

_“I am Glorfindel, formerly of—”_

_“Gondolin,” she said bitterly, hating the sound of the city she had once loved – hating that it was simply a name in the lore scrolls instead of a living city bustling with activity. “I know who you are.” They had met in Life Three Thousand, when his eyes hadn’t held so much sadness, and when their city was still standing tall._

_“Then might I have some of your time, my lady?” he enquired, and Sakura nodded sharply, always too eager to give him time. “We have need of your expertise southward, where some dragons have fled…”_

It was always _fucking_ dragons.

* * *

_“Can you not tell?”_

* * *

She stayed out of sight, content with remaining unseen when the encountered the group, because her visage was far too similar. It always was. Her bodies there always looked far too similar for comfort, and the last thing she needed was Glorfindel noticing that much.

_She stared up at him from the waters. “If you aren’t planning on joining me, then why are you here?” she grumbled, staring up at the golden locks which should have also been tumbling from her head. But they weren’t. She was dyed black._

_“I am here, my lady,” he said, staring down at her levelly, “because you appear to be rather inebriated, and it would be on my consciousness if you were to drown as such, when you are meant to be under my care.”_

_“I can swim.” She lifted herself partway out of the waters, relishing the way his eyes flickered between the sodden fabric clinging to her breasts and her face. Edain always had much more rounded curves, or so Sakura had found, and after so many lifetimes, she knew exactly how to emphasise the allure. “I’m not drunk enough to forget that much.”_

_“Apparently not,” he remarked, raising an eyebrow._

_“Join me,” she said, sighing when she spied the refusal written all over his face. “Or at least help me up, if you’re trying to be a gentleman about this,” she added, offering her hand up, doe-eyed innocence written all across her face. An expression she had long since mastered._

_His resistance crumpled like wet paper, apparently unable to resist the lure of a damsel in distress. Ever the noble lord she remembered walking the streets of Gondolin._

_It would be his undoing, she decided, chakra securing her feet to the rock face beneath the water as she braced herself. Her smile became a fox’s grin, and she dove back under the inky waters, pulling him down with her._

_Just like old times._

Because she couldn’t stay with him, no matter how much her heart wanted to. Because she didn’t want for him to become twisted in the tangled web of her cursed fate. Because she had lost too much already, and how could she lose him if she never had him in the first place.

It was an excellent plan.

_Sakura was well practiced at denial after seven thousand cycles of death and rebirth._

* * *

_“Oh, foolish little lost star, why do you not realise how she cries?”_

* * *

“Where did you find this?” he asked, and Sakura found her attention sliding over to where the golden elf lord sat, heart thudding almost painfully in her chest upon spying her war hammer in his grasp. _Her hammer had been amongst the collection as well?_

“In a troll hoard, my lord,” the elf Aravir had called Achardir spoke. “I could not recognise it’s craftmanship, but it’s undoubtedly of elven make, so I though to take it back with us…”

“Should I tell you the tale of its owner, I wonder?” Glorfindel murmured, and Sakura closed her eyes, burying her face in her knees.

She didn’t want to hear that tale.

It made her heart ache too much, because she missed them. She missed the sound of hammer and anvil. She missed the chatter amongst the House of the Hammer of Wrath. She missed the hatred they had all held for Morgoth and his Balrogs. She missed the camaraderie and the happiness she hadn’t known about until it was gone.

Dead, just like the House of the Hammer of Wrath.

* * *

_“Oh, foolish little lost star, who into darkness fell… how can you not tell?”_

* * *

The Seneschal of the House of the Hammer of Wrath she would be, who dwelt in Gondolin until its ruin came.

Upon the North Gate she and the rest of her house lay in wait alongside those of the House of the Tree, ready to fall upon the enemy when they entered through the breach. And fall upon them they did. The House of the Hammer of Wrath hated Morgoth and his Balrogs with a passion, many of their number made up of those who had escaped Morgoth’s mines, and so when a contingent of those fell beasts came, they charged out at the urging of their lord.

Serpents and Balrogs they slew, the first of Elves and Men to slay those corrupted maia, and though many of their house perished, it was said that each of the Hammer of Wrath took the lives of seven foemen to pay for their own.

But she was the last to fall, crying out vengeance for her fallen friends. Mighty she was as she wielded her war hammer, Gûdam, and her sword, Agarwaen against the fire drakes who had taken the lives of her kin and burnt her city down to cinders.

It was then, on the flowery grass of the Tumladen, that she called lightning down to her blade, and sparks came from her eyes in her unfathomable rage. She fell that day, battling several fire drakes until she was consumed by their flames, marking the end, the utter destruction, of the House of the Hammer of Wrath.

Such was the tale of Moriel Lightningblade.

* * *

_“Oh, foolish little lost star, who tries to rise from shadows long… Shall I put my words in poetic song?”_

* * *

He could still remember, as he fled across the plains, unseen thanks to the mists and fumes which covered them, catching a glimpse of her figure. Hair as dark as the night sky, lightning so white and brilliant dancing down her blade.

He had called out to her then, in his folly, hope in his heart as he saw that she still lived. _She still fought on._ He had hoped she might sneak away into the mists. He had hoped that she might join the survivors fleeing towards the mountains.

_“Go.”_

He could still remember the way that word had pierced through the air between them. He could still remember the way one of the fell dragons had noticed him. He could still remember the way she had turned to him. He could still remember the way the dragon had seemingly forgotten about his existence in the next breath.

He could still remember her eyes, once like onyx, but it had to be a trick of the light what he saw then.

A trick of the cruel dragons.

Because she couldn’t have had those eyes.

Ones like rubies, with three ash black markings which spun.

* * *

_“Perhaps you cannot see, because of the darkness which upon your vision creeps?”_

* * *

_Life #9000_

A sharp knock at the door woke her. Groggy, she rolled out of bed and yanked the door to her room open. “We leaving?” she asked, peering up at her chieftain and the gaggle of hobbits following behind him. “Oh goodie…”

“Hurry,” Aragorn hissed.

Rolling her eyes, she grabbed a hold of her pack. “There,” she said, slipping her boots on. “All ready, no need to get your knickers in a twist.”

Aragorn only sighed, leading them out of the inn, and into the streets. _If they could be called as such,_ Sakura mused, hating the squelching sound her boots made as she made her way down the muddy road.

“Here’s to hoping we don’t run into any golden-haired elves,” she muttered, staring up at the sky. It was cloudy, but fortunately it didn’t look like there would be any thunderstorms on the way. Sakura took that as a good omen.

Well, as good of a one that she was going to get.

* * *

_“That being how hard it is that Nienna weeps…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rough Translations:
> 
> Glosuien - Snow-White Daughter  
> Achardir - Vengeful  
> Agarwaen - Bloodstained (Also a name used by Turin)  
> Glawarien - Blossom Daughter  
> Moriel - Dark Daughter
> 
> 'Nienna was a Queen of the Valar, the sister of Mandos and Irmo, acquainted with grief and sorrow but also pity and courage.' - Tolkien Gateway


	3. don't tell the gods I left a mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life #3000 kind of slipped in here... Here's to hoping it doesn't make things too confusing.

_Life #5000_

“Sakura!” Naruto’s voice echoed through the trees, far louder than she would have liked, and silently, she cursed the loudness of her companion. It was a gentle curse, if there were such a thing, because even her bubbly blonde friend’s somewhat irritating temperament couldn’t erase the sheer joy she felt at him being there with her in that cycle. She wished it would last forever, but she was no closer to binding either of them to the fate of Arda.

She shook her head, sighing then. “It’s Lothien here, just as you’re Anorion,” she reminded him. “We can hardly explain where Sakura and Naruto come from, can we? Lest we be mistaken for having gone mad.”

Naruto tilted his head then, long blonde locks shifting then. “Y’know, sometimes you sound real smart and wise, Sak”—Sakura glared at him pointedly—“Lothien. Sorry – I’ll remember, I swear.”

Sakura only snorted. “Sure you will.” Naruto had a brain like a sieve when it came to what he considered to be unimportant, and she had no doubts this qualified as such.

“Sometimes, I swear she could be mistaken for an elf,” Elentir chimed in then, alerting the both of them to his presence there. “Save only for the ears, my friend,” he said, chuckling then, and Sakura laughed along with him. _If only he knew… if only…_ “Though I must say the both of you get along marvellously, considering you were only introduced some weeks ago.” Sakura blinked at the reminder of time passed. Truly, it felt like they hadn’t been apart long, what with her four-thousandth and nine-hundred and ninety nineth lifetime having been in the Elemental Nations. But this Naruto was different. He was a reincarnate, and he was seemingly travelling down the same path as she. “Should I be expecting an announcement at the end of this expedition, old friend?”

Sakura blinked at the thought, taking a moment to consider it properly. Truly, the idea wasn’t as horrifying as it had been in her first life. She had sometimes partnered up with Naruto in previous cycles, on the odd occasion where she had felt like starting a family which had grown rarer and rarer as cycles passed. _As those she loved became more akin to children in her eyes._

Red stained Naruto’s cheeks, and Sakura only chuckled. _He was far younger than she and hadn’t learnt to temper his reactions. So no one could use them against her._ Nor had he been subjected to Danzo’s idealisation of what a shinobi should be. Silently, she prayed he never had to. Though she swore in the next cycle she met Danzo, she would beat him to a bloody pulp before he could even lay eyes on her previous teammate. “No! It’s nothing like that, I swear! We’re just friends…”

“What he says is true, Elentir,” she said, deciding to spare Naruto the misery. “Stop teasing, old friend, unless you wish for me to tell the tale of when you tripped over thin air and planted your face straight—”

“I give!” Elentir said hurriedly, cheeks pinkening at the reminder of one of his many embarrassing moments Sakura had been privy to. “Come now, dear friend of mine, surely you know better than to slander my image with these horrid tales. I do have a reputation to keep, what with our business, travelling north to the Icy Pass as we are…”

“I do not believe that to be our destination’s true name,” Sakura intoned, raising an eyebrow at him. “The elves have a different name for it—”

Elentir frowned. “It is a close enough translation,” he said, shrugging somewhat under her unamused gaze. “Besides, unlike any other name, the _Icy Pass_ tells us exactly what to expect. Sometimes you really do astonish me with the amount of lore you know of… Truly you are wise and more learned beyond your years, and I am blessed to have you both on this travel, and as a dear friend.”

“And I see, or _hear_ more aptly, that you still have that silvery tongue of yours,” Sakura remarked. “Tell me again, how many ladies have you ensnared with those sweet words of yours?”

“Surely you jest,” Elentir said, a sardonic smile on his lips. “Ensnaring them would be quite the feat. I merely talk with them, as is expected of one of my station.”

“Let us not forget all the dancing,” she said, musing over the last event which had ended up with them dancing together – if only to fend off all the eligible ladies who were so very eager to make acquaintances with her dear friend, what with his position in the king’s forces.

“Please do not remind me,” Elentir murmured with a wince, telling of his exhausting experiences. “My mother does so enough. It seems I am ‘getting on in my years’, and mother is all too eager to see me wed.”

“Well, I am fairly certain I can see some grey hairs on your head. Perhaps you ought to take her advice?” Sakura inclined her head, a smile playing on her lips as she remembered meeting with the older woman. It was… memorable, to say the least.

Elentir grimaced. “Sometimes, friend, I feel as thought I ought never to have introduced you to my mother,” he said bluntly, and Sakura only laughed. “And you should take care of what you say – I would have you know I do not have any grey hairs as of yet, and hopefully not for a long while.”

“You deserve to be happy, El,” she mumbled, looking out across the scenery before her. It was cold, and yet so utterly beautiful. _Deadly._ She had always loved dangerous things. “Is it wrong for me to wish that upon you as your dear friend?”

“I could say the same to you,” he said, looking pointedly at Naruto. “I believe I have stolen enough of your attention for the time being, Lothien,” he continued, backing away from what had become her and Naruto’s part of their camp. “Rest well. We will be travelling further as soon as day breaks. Good eve, Anorion.”

Naruto blinked at the curt nod he received.

Sakura only smiled. “Come, Anorion,” she spoke, chuckling at the adorable frown Naruto sent her way. “We should settle down for the evening, otherwise I feel as though you wouldn’t let the either of us have any rest, and we have a busy day ahead of us on the morrow…”

“You talk real weird now, Sakura—I mean Lothien,” he said, following her as she went to unpack their bedding supplies from the packs they had brought along with them for the expedition.

“It is called being formal, dear friend, and the habit is rather hard to break,” she explained, thinking of the many lifetimes where she had spoken like that. She had never quite broken the habit of speaking like a feudal princess – which she’d been a few times more than she cared for – or, more accurately, an elf.

“You don’t have to be formal around me!” he declared in that earnest way of his. “We’re friends, Sakura! Best friends!”

She smiled then, eyes crinkling up in happiness as she stared at the blonde who oftentimes meant so much to her in all her other cycles. _Though she would admit there was another blonde in her current timeline of whom her feelings towards surpassed her dear friend there._ Sakura closed her eyes then, reminding herself she was mortal now, and as such, any relationship with him was doomed. Those sorts of feelings between elves and men always were.

She only hoped, much like cycle four-thousand, that she didn’t encounter him at all.

* * *

Cycle three-thousand was another matter entirely. It was where her feeling began, and where they had to end, what with her death as an elf. Sakura would never forget, not after Silifaloth had ensured they met in those waters. It was there where it had begun. The push and pull. The intoxicating spiral which she had let herself grow caught up in, until it was far too late for her to escape.

* * *

_Life #3000_

She liked high places.

Maybe her attraction to danger, to that toe-curling rush of adrenaline, had something to do with her liking for towers and climbing them. The fact she still had chakra with which to scale even the smoothest of walls like a spider, probably had something to do with her liking of finding the closest high structure with which to watch the sun as its light climbed over the mountains surrounding the beautiful city she had been born in.

But her heart ached, because she had once destroyed places like this one, in another time, and another place. She mourned for what her anger had wrought, at a later time than which she found herself. She had appeared only for the War of Wrath, she believed they had called it, in her two-thousandth cycle. So when the sun came over the peaks of the Encircling Mountains, she sung to the last remnant of Laurelin, as she often did whenever she found herself alone in a high place, with only her thoughts and wretched memories for company.

As she was singing the last notes though on that day, a voice reached her, “Now that is a terribly heavy song for daybreak, my lady,” he said with a voice as smooth as the satin of the dresses her mother so loved.

Sakura turned, blinking languidly as she caught sight of him standing in the doorway, resting against the door frame with a casual elegance. His hair could have been spun out of gold, for all that it glittered in the light of day, his eyes of the brightest grey, boring into her inky black ones with all their splendour, a question unspoken hidden in their unfathomable depths. He could have been a statue, carved from marble, for all the lustre his ivory skin had in the morning light, exposed by the rolled sleeves of his tunic. “Perhaps,” she said, tilting her head as she finished taking in his beauty and grace. “Perhaps not.” She turned her gaze away then, settling her dark eyes on the beauty of the scenery she could see from on high. “I sing for myself, my lord. So how is it for you to decide that which I sing?”

His feet scuffed the stone flooring then as he stepped closer to her, and where she sat, legs dangling over the parapet. “Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to cause offence—”

“There is no offence,” Sakura said, voice as bland and level as when she had answered him. She had no interest in him, aside from passing the time until she was required to report to Lord Rog and carry out her duties for the day. She doubted anything he spoke of would cause offence. She’d spent years growing accustomed to insults, unmeaning offence, and other methods through which one could enrage her. “I was simply informing you that I sing that which I wish to, when I wish to.”

There was a momentary pause, black clashing with grey, before rich laughter rolled through the air. “Of course that is what you would do, my lady,” he said, voice still overflowing with an amusement Sakura couldn’t quite work out. She didn’t know what she had said to make him laugh as such, so she only tilted her head once more, staring at the golden lord as though he were a new strain of bacteria. “Your voice is your own, and it is yours to do what you please with.”

Sakura blinked slowly. “My lord, forgive me for my bluntness, but what business does the Lord of the Golden Flower have up a tower at this hour in the morning?”

He shifted on his feet then, turning the force of his gaze on the scene she had been admiring – daybreak. “It would appear you have me at a disadvantage, my lady, for you know my name, but I do not know yours…”

Sakura snorted. “I would wager it to be a common problem for you, my lord,” she remarked, thinking on the matter of practically everyone in the city knowing his name. “I am Moriel, Seneschal of the House of the Hammer of Wrath. I would say it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lord, but I am afraid I already had that pleasure.”

“Ah, Silifaloth,” he murmured, humming in contemplation. “You left before I could catch your name that time…”

“Though let us be honest, anyone could work out my name if they had half a brain.”

“Indeed, my lady.” A wry grin curled at his lips. “Your colouring is rather… unique.”

Sakura frowned. “That is one way to put it, certainly.” She had never had the pleasure of encountering another elf with black eyes. “Though I notice you still have yet to answer my question, my lord.”

“Could I not simply have fancied a morning stroll?”

She stared at him pointedly, eyebrows raised with prevalent scepticism.

“Come now,” he said, arms folded across his broad chest. “You do not know me, or my habits…”

“You have not denied it,” Sakura said flatly, folding her arms as she placed one leg back over the parapet. “So why are you really up here? I was not aware of another who so enjoyed watching the sun rise, else perhaps I might have found their company already.”

“I heard singing. Your singing, to be precise, and I wondered as to who would be singing such a sad song in the light of dawn.”

“Well, it would appear you have found the culprit.”

“Though, my lady…” Glorfindel frowned, lifting up the key held within his hand. “I would ask how you managed to make your way up here, given I was required to unlock this very door to gain access…”

“I fancied a climb,” Sakura said matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow – an invitation for his reply.

He blinked then, brows drawing together in something resembling concern. “My lady, I am not sure if it would be too prudent of me to bring your attention to the matter of this towers outer walls being rather smooth…”

“Indeed.” A wicked smile besmirched her lips then. “It was terribly difficult to find adequate handholds, but I assure you, my lord, they are there.”

Glorfindel blinked once more. “Tell me, is Lord Rog aware his beloved seneschal is completely and utterly mad?”

“Quite so, I am afraid,” she said, her smile still set upon her lips even as a strong wind decided to buffer them in that instant. “But, as you have clearly seen, or perhaps, more aptly, heard, it only seems to endear me to him and the rest of the horde better known as the House of the Hammer of Wrath.”

“Given how frequently you come up in the tales he regales us with, it is safe to say you are held within high regard.”

Sakura sighed, a low chuckle escaping her lips. “It seems my dear Lord Rog will never overcome his habit of gossiping like a teenaged elleth, I see.”

That drew a laugh from her new companion. “Indeed. Should such a day come, I fear what would happen amongst my dear compatriots.”

“They would succumb to complete and utter boredom, no doubt.”

“Plausible.”

“I always am.”

Sakura smiled at the second roll of rich laughter that earned her, taking note of the sun’s position, sighing softly as she realised the time. She would have to return to her chambers, ready to deal with paperwork and the many other tasks she often dealt with as Lord Rog’s Seneschal. Though really, she would not have changed her job for the life of her. She loved it. She loved the House of the Hammer of Wrath. True, they were all somewhat mad. _But then again, all the best people were._ In her mind, sanity was overrated. Valier knew she should have lost hers lifetimes ago.

“Have you somewhere to be, my lady?”

“You may call me Moriel if you wish,” she said, climbing to her feet then. “And yes, I am afraid someone must be there to handle the matters of the House of the Hammer of Wrath, and that someone would happen to be me.”

“I knew there was a reason behind Rog’s alarming punctuality as of late.” Glorfindel smiled once more, and Sakura knew it could melt even the iciest of hearts. _Though really, hers was something akin to a glacier, especially when it came to the charms of elves._ “Would you do me the honour of escorting you back to your House?” He offered his arm out, ever a gentleman, or so it seemed to her.

Sakura tapped her chin. “And here I was, thinking about climbing back down the same way I arrived,” she said, grinning at the look of alarm and horror that earned her. “I think I shall take you up on that offer, after all, I would hate for the wrath of the hammer to fall upon you should the _beloved_ seneschal of Lord Rog’s household come to any harm in your presence.”

“Might I advise not climbing any more towers when there are a perfectly good set of stairs available for use?”

Her hand closed around his proffered arm, and she smiled up at him so innocently. “But my lord! Where has your sense of adventure gone to? Surely you cannot be boring enough as to climb towers using stairs all of the time!”

The dry stare that earnt her fuelled her laughter for years to come.

* * *

_Life #7000_

A swamp.

That was what lay between them and the dragon they hunted, and Sakura felt her sheer, utter loathing at her once-kin come back to bite once more. Why, of all things, did it have to be a swamp? She would have gleefully taken the desert over trekking through mud which came to her thighs. Never had she envied the light steps of the elves as she had in that moment. _She hated them and missed them in equal measures._ She could have perhaps used her chakra, but she was blending in. _Not to mention using her chakra for such a trivial reason as that, would only speed up her demise._ Edain bodies weren’t made for the strain which using chakra caused, especially not _her_ chakra which, in essence, represented the sheer strength of her soul – accumulated over thousands of cycles.

So sludging through mud it was, all the while reminding herself to stay away from the golden elf. She had chanced fate enough as it was in Life Number Six Thousand. Sakura didn’t need to get in a habit of interacting with him more and more with each passing thousand-cycle. She had only glimpsed him from afar before six-thousand. _And how that had made her heart ache to see those golden locks dancing in the wind, all the while knowing she would never be able to run her hand through them. Never be able to see him shiver as the traced her finger from the curve of his jaw to his collarbone. Never be able to—_

Sakura shook her head, gritting her teeth as she pushed those thoughts away. She wasn’t going to think of him. Not when there was a dragon to be hunted. Not when she had to keep her wits about her. _Not when it had been a dragon to kill her as Moriel._ Banishing the thought, she scowled, hating the memories that tale regaled to them around the campfire had stirred to the surface. She didn’t want to be reminded of the mistakes of Life Number Two Thousand.

She also didn’t want to chance being ensnared by the dragon’s song. Already, she could hear it, whispering promises to her, telling her that _it_ could bind her fate to Arda’s. _That it could give her back her original body._ But she knew better than to open her heart and mind to the creature whispering those promises in the song it wove. Not even the Valar could keep her there. Mandos couldn’t keep her within his halls, nor reembody her. Not when she vanished, sometimes before she had even set foot within his halls.

“Glosuien!” Aravir’s voice made her blink, and she tilted her head in question. “We will be breaking here for the night,” he said, gesturing to the relatively dry space they had found amidst some trees. “According to Lord Glorfindel we should cross paths with the dragon tomorrow.”

“I guess it’s song is too weak to lead us astray as others have,” she murmured, thinking of the many times she had hunted them before.

Aravir looked at her curiously. “What was that?”

Sakura merely smiled thinly. “Just enjoying the music,” she said, glancing at the elf singing fiercely so as to keep the dragon’s own poisonous songs at bay. Sakura only hoped their strength chose not to wane until the eve of tomorrow – by which she knew the dragon would have been dealt with. _Really, they had a certain golden elf, and her – previously known as Glawarien Dragonslayer._ That should have been enough of an indicator that their quest to slay the beast encroaching on these woods would be summarily dealt with.

Though admittedly no one was aware – or ever would be, if she had her way – about the latter. So she supposed they could afford to be a bit unnerved and afraid as they settled down for the night, and Sakura had to wait until she could no longer hear the whispers of the dragon at the edges of her battered, concealed soul, before she slipped into an uneasy rest.

* * *

_“Where is she?” he asked. “Where is Moriel?”_

_“She is lost.”_

* * *

The question he had posed Mandos within his halls haunted his every waking moment. He didn’t understand. Truly, he couldn’t. Was she lost within his halls, lost in her thoughts as she waited to be reimbodied? The other part of him recalled the tale of Laethiel. _The lost daughter of the Noldor, her fate unknown even to Mandos._ Though he couldn’t quite match the tale of the golden-haired elf, well known for her silvery eyes which were said to shine with the light of Telperion, with his dark-haired, dark-eyed beloved. Though he had never managed to say the words out loud. There had been something about her which whispered to him never to speak of his affections. _Because there was an intolerable sadness which had seemed to surround her like a looming thundercloud. An intolerable sadness which spoke of her self-flagellation, and that would be an obstacle to overcome in getting her to return his affections._ He had known that deep down, and he had held his tongue, wanting to grow closer and closer with her. _Wanting to tear down the walls she had built to cloud her very fëa itself._

A bark of laughter, so soft it was almost inaudible, escaped him then, and he looked to the stars. His gaze was almost inexplicably drawn to the light of the Evening Star, and he thought of Eärendil, musing on the fate of the boy-turned-elf whom he had only even seen as a child before the tragedy which befell Gondolin. He thought of the doom which Manwë had given to him and their descendants. The power of doom which had bestowed them with a choice.

There was a doom set upon Laethiel too, and Glorfindel could remember as it was spoken in audience of her mother and father.

_“In this matter, the power of doom is not given to me. The fate of Laethiel, as you so named her, is to be determined by The One. The actions undertaken by her shall be tallied when the time of The Hour comes, and she will be judged. Whether she shall be forgiven and her fate re-joined with that of her true kindred, or peril befalls her and her fate be sundered from Arda; the choice rests upon her shoulders, and her shoulders alone.”_

Manwë’s words echoed in his head then, and he sighed once more, closing his eyes then as he thought of Glawarien. _The mortal who had looked far too much like Moriel. The mortal long passed who had ensnared him so easily._ She had made the _thing_ which had long since nestled in his very heart come alive, made of thorns from the blossoming roses he had once wanted to present Moriel one morning. It had twisted, making his heart ache sorrowfully. _Maybe that was why she had asked him to call her Níroliel. Sorrowful Daughter._

His hands curled, and he felt the whispers of the dragon’s song at the very edges of his fëa. Ialladis’ voice rang out then, strong and powerful. _Like Moriel,_ his somewhat traitorous thoughts whispered. He would never forget the sight her figure had cut with lightning blazing down her blade. _As though she had embodied the wrath of the skies, and the hatred they held for Morgoth and his dragons. As though she embodied the very wrath of Manwë himself._

He wanted to see her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anorion - Sun-Son  
> Níroliel - the closest Sindarin approximation I can get to Sakura's Thousandth Cycle (First in Aman) life's Quenya mother-name.  
> The One - Refers to Eru, not the ring.
> 
> Manwë Súlimo was the King of the Valar, husband of Varda Elentári, brother of the Dark Lord Melkor (Morgoth), and King of Arda. The winds, airs and birds were his servants. He was the greatest of the Ainur in authority, but not in power. The Lord of the Breath of Arda, he was appointed as its Ruler, hence his most common title, the Elder King. - Tolkien Gateway
> 
> Mandos was the Doomsman of the Valar who pronounced judgement in matters of fate. He was the keeper of the slain in his Halls in the north of Valinor. - Tolkien Gateway


	4. he said go dry your eyes

_Life #3000_

She was swept up in a swirl of silken fabric, the near silent rustling of her dress drowned out by the music suffusing through the hall. Had she not been who she was, then perhaps she would have been laughing and singing along joyously with the other ellith. _Exchanging gossip on the comings and goings of the Lords and Ladies of the court._ Politics was a minefield and a half, though by that point Sakura was an old hand at navigating the tenuous waters. Elves had problems with kin slayings, unlike the courts of the Elemental Nations, meaning the waters weren’t as _treacherous_ as others she had waded through before _._ Though it certainly didn’t make small talk easier. If anything, it made it harder, given that her company were… older in the grand scheme of things.

Truly, the lifespan of elves was somewhat mindboggling when she compared it to her numerous other cycles. Dimly, some part of her wondered whether her elvish life would once again be cut short by blade or foe. _Probably._ Sakura could only sigh, a neutral expression plastered on her face as she danced with her fourth partner for the night who was evidently unnerved by her colouring far too much. He had yet to speak to her, and Sakura knew he was only dancing with her as a formality. She was Lord Rog’s Seneschal, and it was rather well known that her authority in the House she helped govern was second to none. _Even Rog knew that much – hence why she could ensure he was punctual for once in his life._

Sakura chuckled privately inside her mind at the thought of her beloved lord. He was an incredible smith, and mighty in battle, but one of his failings she was privy to was his terrible habit of becoming too absorbed in his work. _Or his attention wandering as he rested in the privacy of his chambers._ Then again, that was why she had risen to the position she had. She cared for him, deeply. Nothing of the romantic sort – she knew her own feelings well enough by then. He was… akin to Naruto in a way, particularly as to how she felt him. A dear friend. A brother in arms. Wisely, she didn’t linger on the thoughts of the lifetimes where she had actually gotten married to the whiskered blonde.

_There had been a happy contentment in those lives._ Her eyes lost the sharp glare they had in them, softening ever so slightly as she caught sight of his red hair within the crowd of dancers, there one second and gone in the next. _So full of energy and life._ It was strange how incarnating in the many versions of that world of elves and men made her nostalgic, yet not miserable or grief-stricken when she thought of how much she had lost to reach that point. _Of how many cycles she had been through. Of how much she had loved and lost._

Her dance came to a conclusion then, the both of them gliding and spinning their way to the outer eaves of the dancing crowd, and Sakura bowed in acknowledgement to her partner before they parted ways silently. She glanced towards the various groups milling about, some discussing heavy matters, and others discussing who was dressed the most sharply out of all of the bachelors there that day. Sakura steered away from those groups – partly because Lord Rog came up in conversation there, and partly because that sort of talk made her think of Ino. She didn’t want to think of her first friend on a night like that one, when there was supposed to be talk and cheer amongst them all. It was a celebration. That didn’t warrant her thinking morosely on friends long dead. She had never found herself in the same sort of relationship with Ino again. _They weren’t the same as the first life._

Still, it didn’t stop her from procuring a glass of elven wine and sliding away into the shadows. The stillness and quiet was a welcome relief from the bustle of music, song, and silk within the ballroom of the palace. Sometimes she just needed that – a moment of quiet. She had never been particularly outgoing, and more often than not she liked her own company every now and then. The perks of being a centuries-old being, not that anyone else knew that. They simply thought she had been born in Gondolin – a short while before its completion and the move of Turgon’s host, was actually the more correct answer. They knew nothing of her past cycles.

_Blissful ignorance._ Sakura snorted at the thought. Sometimes she wished she could go back to that, but instead she was tired… and perhaps, oddly jaded. Though admittedly she still felt the joy of living, and the happiness of other’s company. Sighing quietly, she wandered towards the fountain at the heart of the small courtyard she had found herself in, sipping from the glass she had taken before escaping the hustle and bustle of the ballroom.

“The night is beautiful, no?”

Sakura blinked at the voice which sounded, spinning languidly to find a certain golden lord making his way down the short steps leading to the pavilion she had found solace in. He was radiant in the night as well as the daytime, golden locks styled back, half braided in one of the intricate styles he favoured. His clothing was befitting of his status as one of the twelve lords of the Gondolindrim, silks of white and gold, embroidery so fine it almost hurt to look upon. Truly, he looked regal in full, formal dress under the light of the moon. She felt somewhat inadequate next to him, especially with the memories of Life Two Thousand still burnt into her brain. “I suppose so,” she murmured, looking up at the last fruit of Telperion, basking in the light it gave.

Glorfindel came to a pause next to her, looking down at her then as the wind ruffled through locks of gold and black. “Are you not going to sing tonight?” he asked, glancing back towards the doors to the hall. “I have heard you enough in the evenings to know that you enjoy singing to starlight as well as sunlight.”

“How are you so certain it was me singing all those times?” she enquired, raising an eyebrow at the golden lord beside her. “I am not the only one with a voice, nor the only one who enjoys singing.”

“My lady, you underestimate yourself so,” he said, taking her hand in his own. She could feel the callouses they both shared, from years of work with blade or bow. “Your voice is as unique as you, and truly, the sounds of singing I heard always came from some high off place.”

Her lips curled into a wry grin, even as his lips brushed the back of her hand. _Oh how she hated formal events._ “So my love of the tallest towers gives me away as such…”

“So it would seem,” he remarked, still holding her hand then, and dimly Sakura wondered whether he would release it anytime soon. “I must admit, I have grown somewhat used to hearing your voice in the mornings and evenings, and I look forwards to it each day.”

“And here I thought my songs were rather miserable to the ears,” she said, smiling wistfully, remembering all of her sorrow which she sung of at dawn and nightfall. “Though I see you are as much of a wordsmith as I have heard. Truly, my lord, you are one of the finest bachelors in the city.”

His face twisted then, something akin to a grimace marring his finely sculpted features. “You heard all of that in there, then, I take it,” he said, and Sakura sniggered at his expression. Her hand went to cover her lips, not wanting to give away the depth of her amusement at his expense.

“Indeed,” she said, lips still curved upwards even as she let her free hand fall back to her side.

He noticed. Of course he did. “So glad you have found amusement at my expense,” he spoke, bowing to her then. “But as the _fine_ bachelor I am, it would be quite remiss of me not to dance with the beautiful maiden before me…”

They could still here the music, no matter how faint, and Sakura only sighed softly. “Well, Lord Glorfindel, how ever could I say no to such a request?” she murmured, placing her free hand on his shoulder, letting him lead their little dance within the confines of the quiet courtyard, the moon the only witness to their black and gold orbit.

“I couldn’t help but notice that your last dance partner seemed to be… less than willing to exchange words with you,” he remarked, looking down at her as she kept pace with him. She had years upon years’ worth of dancing practice, and the grace of an elf with which to pull everything together.

“Should I go and apologise to the poor lady upon your arm at that point in time, then?” she asked, spinning around him, the shadow to his golden light. “For stealing your attention so…”

“Come now, Moriel,” he said, and Sakura jolted in surprise, before remembering she had, long ago, given him permission to call her by that name. “You should know me well enough by now. My attention would never be caught wandering when I have a dance partner to entertain.”

“Indeed, the great Lord Glorfindel would never be caught doing as such,” she replied. “There would be a scandal if it were to be known that our beloved golden lord was concerned over the speaking habits of another lady’s partner.”

“I feel as though you rather enjoy mocking me as such, my lady,” he stated, and Sakura could only smile slyly up at him.

“Friends may tease one another, might they not?” she asked, tilting her head as he blinked for a few moments, taking a short while to register her words.

“Friends?” he echoed.

Sakura only grinned. “Well, my dear friend, I feel I would have to call you as such, given how many times you have intruded upon my singing in the day or night, lest I call you a pest instead.”

He chuckled then, mirth lighting his face. “Well, then, dear friend… do you wish to return to the hall as of yet?” he asked. “Or would you indulge me in another dance?” He held out his hand once more, an offer – to dance for a while longer, or to escort her indoors, back to the hubbub of the celebrations the city indulged in.

She tilted her head then, glancing up at the stars as they twinkled merrily in the midnight blue skies above. Her gaze flickered over, taking in the reasonably-sized tower making up a corner of the courtyard they had ensconced themselves within. “How about neither?” she spoke, a mischievous gleam coming to glimmer in her eyes. “Fancy a climb?”

Glorfindel blinked, taking a split second to glance between the tower and her. “My lady—”

“I would prefer it if you called me by name. I don’t think I have ever been called a lady as much as I have by you…” she said, thinking back on their brief morning and evening meetings, whenever the golden lord had gone in search of the tower songbird.

“Forgive me,” he said, still staring up at the tower’s top high above them. “Henceforth I will endeavour to call you a lady only whence you act as one should.”

“So… about that climb?”

He stared at her flatly. “Moriel, dearest friend, as much as I dislike pointing this out, you are wearing a dress.” At her uncomprehending stare, he rubbed the crinkle forming at his brow at her words. “It is hardly an appropriate outfit for climbing a tower in.”

Sakura stared at him mildly. “Do you believe I would not have possibly thought of such an outcome and circumvented the problems it may bring?” she asked, hitching the skirts of her dress up, revealing the shorts she wore beneath it, uncaring at his startled expression as she did so. “If you wish to accompany me, I do hope I will not hear any other complaints… Of course, though, you are more than welcome to head back inside, that is, if you are too _scared_ to climb a simple tower with me.”

“Come now, I will hardly fall prey to this childish challenge of yours,” he said, and Sakura felt herself pout. She had rather come to enjoy his company. Sometimes it was better than being alone with her thoughts, because those sometimes became dangerous if she left them to rattle and whisper things at her for too long.

“I would catch you if you fell.” She placed her hands on her hips. “It would hardly be becoming of me to let my dear friend fall to his death.”

“I am certain there are stairs which lead up there.” Glorfindel folded his arms, and Sakura chewed on her lip then. “It would be a shame if climbing a tower ruined that lovely dress of yours…” At Sakura’s pout he sighed deeply. “Climbing stairs will not be so boring if you have a friend to speak with, no?”

A huff left her lips. “I guess that is a compromise I can work with,” she declared, taking the arm immediately offered out to her – if only to prevent her from going back to staring longingly up at the tower walls. _They were perfectly climbable._ Not that her companion was about to let her prove as such. A smile curled at her lips then. She didn’t particularly hate it.

* * *

_Life #5000_

“D’you reckon Sasuke – or whatever his name is now – will be there in the Icy Pass? That seems like a good place to meet up?” Naruto wondered, smiling as they sat atop a craggy rock overlooking the rapids of the river they had been travelling beside for the last few days. “I mean we met up on this mission, so it’ll be likely that Sasuke’ll be here too eventually, right?”

Sakura smiled, pushing away the real worry about how Naruto would react when he found out that they were likely the only two reincarnates there. “If he’s here, then perhaps,” she said. “Though it will hardly be guaranteed that he will be here with us. I mean, this reincarnation business is new to you, correct? Why are you so certain that Sasuke is here alongside us? It would not be the first time the infamous Team Seven has been split.”

“It’s new to _us_ , Sakura!” he said, and Sakura only sighed at him. _He had failed to call her Lothien. Again._ It had to be the hundredth time at least. Sakura chuckled then, reminding herself she had occasionally married him. _For some reason, possibly insanity, she thought then._ “And Sasuke has to be here – we’re practically like brothers. Plus you want your husband here, right?”

Choking on the sip of water she had been just about to swallow, she stared at her dear old friend. _Her dear, old, obnoxious friend._ He could be so bull-headed sometimes. Sakura only smiled in the depths of the privacy of her mind. _It was what made him Naruto, time and time again – leaving out the few times Naruto’s personality had been drastically changed due to the alternate childhood history he’d had in some lives._ “Uh… I think death annulled that,” she said, startled at the thought of her long dead crush on the aloof Uchiha.

“But don’t you want to marry him again? In this world?” he asked, tilting his head, doe-like blue eyes staring at her almost innocently. She supposed he was innocent in a way that she had long since lost. _However many hundreds of lifetimes ago._

Sakura smiled then, but it was weaker than her previous, losing some of the joy she always had in the presence of her old friend. Because _he_ lived in that world. In that timeline she kept incarnating into, and each time she came into the particular world she was currently in, it became that much harder for her to think of another. She had fallen in Life Three Thousand, and she had fallen hard. Maybe it was because she knew how to love like an elf that she couldn’t erase those moments from her brain. Maybe it was because she would never forget how expressive the eyes of an elf could be, the same eyes which elves only had to look into to determine if the other was married.

Golden hair popped up in her mind, cascading down over broad shoulders, half of it braided back intricately, revealed only when his helmet was removed. Silver and gold had been the colour of his armour, white fabric donned underneath, which Sakura mused, must have been a nightmare to clean up after. But she wasn’t supposed to think of him. He was out of reach, whether dead or still living, she didn’t know – what with a lack of contact with the elven realms. Relationships between elves and men didn’t have happy endings. Everyone lost something in the end. Which meant she ought to forget about that golden hair, and that smile, and the many mornings and evenings they had spent conversing atop the towers she had loved to climb.

They had something. Something special, and no matter how many different worlds and different lives she lived she could never replicate the relationship they’d had. It had felt _deeper_ somehow, and she could never forget him, no matter the times she had married others after Life Three Thousand. They had been arranged and necessary more than not. Most of her relationships, if she had any, were of that kind, given how _young_ everyone else was in comparison to her.

So for that reason she doubted she could muster up the will to marry Sasuke once more, even if only to appease Naruto, should their third teammate be there with them. Not least because after her first few lives, she had found she needed someone more _open,_ in a way which the many versions of Sasuke were often not. She needed someone with whom she could snuggle when the memories became too much. She needed someone who was _there_ in ways that Sasuke never had been that first time around.

“No,” she said then, ignoring the sharp look Naruto sent her way at her curt answer. “I do not think I would want to, and I would ask of you not to pry, Anorion. Have some tact, won’t you?”

Naruto blinked a few times, looking as though he wished to speak up, but eventually he seemed to think better of it, and he closed his mouth, instead looking off towards the setting sun, seemingly content in watching how the waters seemed to glimmer gold in the light.

Sakura sighed, pushing away the memories the colour gold brought to the very forefront of her mind. Instead, she basked in the light of the fading light, humming under her breath along to the tune of one of numerous songs she had sung so long ago to the last remnant of Laurelin.

* * *

_Life #9000_

“Where abouts are we now?” Sakura asked, peering at the unspoken leader of their little group. Indeed, it was proving to be quite the trial to get some hobbits, _and the bloody One Ring,_ to Rivendell. With each step further towards their destination, her stomach clenched that much tighter. _Because Rivendell, Imladris – no matter how one put it – was where he resided._ The last thing she wanted to do was run into him yet again. Especially not after what she had told him upon the tail end of Life Eight Thousand.

She didn’t want to see hatred and disgust in his eyes, not when she had once seen love and adoration held within them. She didn’t want to see the latter even, _because she would be leaving him forever soon enough, never to incarnate in that timeline again._ Well, she would, but her body would burn almost instantly. She didn’t want to give him hope if he still clung to the same feelings which had long since lingered within her ever since their time in that white city so many years ago.

“I do not know how much longer Mr Baggins will be able to hold out,” she remarked, sparing a worried glance towards the injured hobbit. He had been caught by one of the fell blades belonging to their enemy. Sakura scowled at the memory – she had been busy trying to protect the other foolish hobbits when he had revealed the ring. _And that had been a distraction and a half._ Then it had been too late.

Truly, she had done all that she could, what with her limited healing knowledge without the use of chakra that was. She liked to think it had eased the pain somewhat. He had stopped looking so pale and feverish after her rudimentary treatment – all she was capable of without chakra, and without the resources within a hospital or clinic. Sakura sighed then, rubbing at the prominent crease between her eyebrows as she watched over their little company. The stress of thinking about _him_ didn’t help her in the slightest.

Maybe that was why she didn’t hear the horse coming, and why she followed in Aragorn’s lead when he hunkered down in the bushes upon hearing the light clippety-clip of horse shoes upon the road.

Really, it took for _him_ to ride by, and for Aragorn to cry out as he leapt from the safety of the bushes, for her to stir from her stupor. Part of her wished to forever remain within the comforting, concealing leaves of the undergrowth, but alas… that was not to be.

“Glawariel!”

Sakura grimaced as Aragorn beckoned her over, and she could hardly refuse him, what with him being her chieftain. “Of everyone who could have come,” she muttered, shaking her head. _There were few who were able to ride against the Nine._ Of course he would be one of them, what with him being their golden hero. A relic from the First Age which had been so much bloodier than any other for the Elves, at least.

She had fought in the Nirnaeth Arnoediad. She doubted any other battle could really compare to that one, when wolves, dragons, and balrogs had descended upon the armies of the Noldor. _When she had first gained the epithet ‘Lightning Blade’._ Though there had been some debate about calling her ‘Lightning Hammer’ instead.

“This is Lord Glorfindel, who dwells in Rivendell,” Aragorn spoke hurriedly, as though she needed an introduction. _She didn’t._ Though Glorfindel, once again, needed to be given her new name which had come with her new life. She didn’t quite understand why her mother that time had named her ‘maiden crowned with gold’, but Sakura could feel the irony. She was supposed to have gold hair. But as always, she was dyed black.

Truthfully, she was barely listening as Aragorn introduced the elf to all of them in turn. All she could do was stare into those grey eyes which she had so missed in the last thousand odd cycles between her last incarnation in those lands and her current one. But she didn’t find hate, nor revulsion in those stormy grey eyes.

“Is it you?” The words rolled out through the space between them, and Sakura looked away mulishly, all but answering his question for him. “I see…” A smile curled at his lips, legs longer than her own closing the distance between them before she could even blink.

Her ears burnt, and she could only startle at the featherlight touch upon her cheek as he traced her jawline. “Do you not despise me?” she asked then, still staring determinedly at the grass some metres away, at least until he turned her to face him. _To stare into those grey eyes she loved._ “After what I told…”

Arms wrapped around her then, and she found herself held to a familiar chest. _He smelt like wild flowers._ “Did you honestly think my love could be shaken so easily?”


	5. let's run for cover

She stared at the painting before her, gazing at the figure clad in black scales with red eyes which burned. They weren’t any ordinary red eyes though. No, she knew the sight they cut so very well. The iris a crimson red, holding within three ash black markings which spun. Only they weren’t meant to belong to a dragon. They were meant to belong to—

_“Sister!” Golden hair flared out behind her as the little girl spun, silver eyes holding a depth of mirth and mischievousness to them. “Sister, can you keep a secret?”_

_“Well I have not told our parents about your climbing of Laurelin, have I?” she said, smiling fondly at the childish form of her little sister. She was still so young – so full of life. “That should speak volumes of my ability to hold my tongue.”_

_Her sister smiled then, wide and brilliant, and then her eyes spun crimson, three ash black markings spinning in their depths. “Still think my eyes are pretty?” she asked, a somewhat more hesitant smile overtaking her lips as those terrifying eyes spun._

_Blinking, she reached for her little sister, staring in wonder as those red eyes spun and spun, the markings within them changing into a new pattern. “Telpeniel… what are they?”_

_Her sister smiled, red fading into brilliant silver once more, but it wasn’t one of her usual smiles. Instead, this one was tired. Oh so very tired yet lined with hope. For what, she couldn’t figure out. “They are the eyes which evolve the more trauma one is exposed to… but tell me sister, whenever could I have experienced such violence when ever since my birth I have known naught but peace?”_

Fingers reached out, brushing against the painted canvas, capturing the image which haunted her. “You always did enjoy speaking in riddles,” she murmured then, tears biting at the corners of her eyes, begging to be released. “Oh little sister, what have you done?”

* * *

_Life #7000_

True to her suspicions, it was almost pathetically easy to find the dragon they hunted. It held not even a fraction of her former power. Though admittedly Sakura could hardly use her full might – what with her wish to blend in with the edain, and with her desire to live for a few more years at least. She could already feel the cracks starting to set in under the surface of her skin, and all too soon she would crumble to ash. Such was her fate, and though there were ways to prolong her end it was a final fate which was inevitable. She had already tried in Life Number Five Thousand to rebind her fate with that of Arda’s, but whatever higher power had decided to make her incarnate so many times clearly wasn’t about to let her escape so easily.

Closing her eyes, Sakura sighed, pulling herself out of her reminiscing about her numerous past lives. _Was it so wrong of her to want everything to stop already?_ She smiled then, a snort of laughter leaving her lips then. _It was undoubtedly her penance for Life Number Two-Thousand._

Yells made her eyes snap back open, a scowl soon painting her lips as a long, limber tail swung out, battering one warrior after another out of the way. Sharp teeth flashed, and Sakura could only curse at the yelp of pain which followed. Her eyes flashed over to where her chieftain stood, eyeing the ongoing struggle before him. No doubt he was waiting for the right opportunity to strike, and Sakura just needed to ensure nothing untoward happened to him. That was her self-assigned mission for that life – along with her ongoing _help the free peoples of Arda as much as possible_ shenanigans she was running there.

Thunder rumbled in the skies above, heavy, looming clouds promising a storm upon them. Cursing, Sakura eyed the heavens warily, praying a deluge wouldn’t be upon them before the dragon had been dealt with. Really it should have been going smoother, but she supposed she hadn’t really managed to get into the thicket of dragon slaying action unfolding before her, and that was where she tended to shine. Well, at least she had in her last cycle there.

Grass scuffed under Aravir’s feet, and Sakura looked on, alarmed as her chieftain skilfully avoided the tail and pointed spines, aiming for the weak point she had clocked a few moments ago. Her eyes widened then, experience telling her what was about to happen as the dragon lunged back around, jaws already dripping with saliva and blood. Her body moved entirely on instinct, the moves ingrained into her very soul itself. _Or so she hoped after thousands of lifetimes._ Her arm hefted her beloved blade back, before releasing it to fly through a path straight for the most vulnerable spot she knew she could reach. Truly, though her sword hadn’t been designed with throwing in mind, she had made do with throwing such a large weapon about before. It would have been terribly embarrassing if she had missed, but fortunately, lifetimes of experience hadn’t let her down.

Blade sliced through eye tissue, and Sakura could only smirk, legs already moving as she felt the very air itself become electric. Muddied grass pounded underfoot as she ran forwards then, instinct guiding her then as her hand closed around the oh so familiar grip of her war hammer. Chakra burned through her disused pathways, bolstering her strength as she ran forwards. Black hair flared out behind her, the grin on her lips wild as adrenaline thrummed through her veins. Truly, she felt the most alive in battle, no matter how much chakra it cost her. _No matter how it shortened her life so._

She leapt into the air then, relishing in the way the breeze battered her hair about, drawing level with where her blade sat – half sunk into the dragon’s eye as it roared in pain, tail thrashing about as it tried to prevent the ending coming for it. Lightning flared above her, snaking down to greet her hammer as it had many a time before. _In ages long since passed._ Metal collided with metal, lightning channelled down through the blade. The scaled body jerked, limbs twitching then as death came for the beast. Death she had delivered to it, though at the cost of shortening her life yet again.

“Glosuien!” Aravir’s voice pierced the eerie silence which had fallen with the dragon’s death. Sakura closed her eyes then, adrenaline wearing off as she stood atop the dragon’s corpse. _The same corpse she had made – she was oh so good at making those._ “Are you well?” She blinked at the question, fingers feeling terribly tingly, her arms and just the rest of her entire body feeling terribly numb as she wrestled her chakra back into a tight ball within her chest.

She felt weak. Sakura didn’t like it. She never did. But the weakness of her mortal body decided to come into play then as she stumbled back, numb arms attempting to windmill to prevent her misbalance, but gravity was a cruel mistress. She fell back, too tired to do anything to prevent further injury. Her body was creaking from the strain of using her chakra, an ache in her very bones as she ticked closer to her untimely destruction.

The sky was so wonderfully grey, spots of rain beginning to drip down from the heavens… and the ground… Sakura blinked, noting she had seemingly avoided a painful collision with the hard surface. Thought whatever she had landed on was just as unmoving. _And surprisingly warm in places._ Groaning weakly, she tried to push herself back to her feet, only to realise that she wasn’t in any position to do so. For one, the strength in her legs had seemingly abandoned her, and for two, she was currently being held off the ground, alarmingly close to someone’s armoured chest. Golden hair fell down in front of her vision then, and Sakura grunted in annoyance as she spied the familiar face peering down at her, concern ringing true in their eyes. “Ugh,” she muttered, oddly grateful for her slipping consciousness. “Not you…”

Darkness came for her then, and Sakura sunk into it, grateful for the escape.

* * *

Every part of her hurt as consciousness slammed into her with all the force of her beloved war hammer, and Sakura whimpered. A sound she hated making, but the pain she was experiencing was exquisite. Groaning, she tried to sit up, a scowl marring her face when she struggled to do so. She had lost track of how long it had been since she had been incapable of doing something so simple.

“Easy there,” a soft voice rang out, and Sakura hated the fact she recognised it so easily. _She had missed it, missed the laughter and the dance between them._ The one she had let herself been swept up in, despite knowing her fate would be to leave him behind. But she was selfish and clung to him too often. _But she was mortal now. Adan._ “Do not overexert yourself so.”

“Mmh,” she grumbled, words escaping her then as she found herself being assisted into a seated position. “’m fine,” she mumbled, hating how very difficult the simple task of sitting up had been. _A consequence of using her chakra in that horribly frail body._

“Forgive me if I do not take your word for it, my lady,” he said, and Sakura scowled at the form of address. _She preferred it when he called her by name. Moriel. Glawarien._ She wondered how her new name would sound on his lips. _Whether she would be able to kiss them again and hear him whisper a name from her past._

“’m not a lady,” she muttered petulantly, hating the joy she felt at hearing his laughter.

“I wonder why it is that I have heard that line so many times,” he murmured, fingers tucking loose strands of glossy black hair behind her ear as those grey eyes bore into her black ones. Sakura wondered what he saw. _A ghost from the past, no doubt._ Indeed, Sakura doubted it would be possible for anyone to actually deduce she was the same person. No one knew the fate of Laethiel. Sakura didn’t think anyone ever would. Aside, perhaps, from her sister. Possibly her father too. He had known of her eyes too eventually, and he had been there in _that_ battle. “Alas,” he whispered, “why must my heart be so fickle that it still stirs whenever I hear those words?”

Sakura snorted, sleepiness overcoming her once more. “Because you are a damned fool, that is why,” she slurred, grateful to slip back into the bliss which was unconsciousness again.

* * *

“I feel as though you have a type, friend,” an unfamiliar voice sounded, and Sakura cracked her eyes open, careful to keep her body limp as she found herself pressed against an all too familiar back. “Black-haired and dark-eyed with a tendency to call you out on your actions and words.”

Familiar laughter rang out through the air. “You may be correct,” Glorfindel said, and Sakura tried valiantly not to choke on his hair as the wind battered it about.

“Tell me, do you think this one will mind when you whisper another’s name as you press yours lips to hers?” the elf – who was swiftly becoming one of Sakura’s least favourite people – asked, a sneer on his lips. “Glawarien did not love you the way you idolised her. That should have been enough to deter you from pursuing a mortal a second time.” Sakura felt her brow twitch, loathing coursing through her as they spoke about her past incarnation, blissfully oblivious. “Do not venture down this path again. It will only bring you sorrow.” Deep in the back of her mind, Sakura couldn’t help but agree. _Even if she wanted to punch the other elf in his perfectly straight nose._ “If Glawarien had loved you, she would have been outraged when you murmured another’s name… but instead she only pulled you closer.” _Because she was Moriel, just as she was Glawarien, and she loved Glorfindel far too much. Love was an intoxicating emotion, and hers toward him was one which constantly transcended the bounds of time and space. She longed for him._ “Clearly she was not interested in _you_ but rather what you are.”

Sakura stiffened, fingers twitching as they longed to curl around the elf’s neck and squeeze. _He was an itty bitty brat compared to her, and he thought he had her reasoning all worked out._ “My, to have worked out the thoughts and feelings of a mortal woman,” Sakura murmured then, a far too pleasant smile pulling at her lips, eyes shut – because they were the things which promised _murder._ “You must have know and interacted with plenty of them to be able to come to such conclusions… to be _so very_ knowledgeable about why Glawarien would act how she did…”

“You are awake,” the elf said, pale grey eyes meeting her own as they cracked open to meet the curious, indignant stare. _Because it was obvious he had not spent much time amongst mortal women._

“My, how clever of you to work that fact out,” Sakura said, teeth bared in a mockery of a grin as she came to support her own weight. “Tell me, what gave it away?”

Teeth ground audibly, and Sakura relished in the annoyance written all over his expression. Truly, she had mastered the art of mocking people and subsequently pissing them off. Indeed, she had mastered that even before Life Number Two Thousand. “What does the passing fancy of a long dead woman have to do with you?” he asked, face smoothing out into a neutral expression within a matter of seconds.

“Hmm, now that is a question,” Sakura murmured, tilting her head back to look at the skies above. “Perhaps I was simply bothered by the fact that you knew nothing of that mortal woman and leapt to a conclusion about why she acted the way she did?”

“There is no other reason,” the elf said matter-of-factly.

“At least not one your puny brain could comprehend,” Sakura muttered with a snort. “How very close minded of you…”

“The fact of the matter is that Lord Glorfindel has a beloved who is undoubted waiting for him in the Undying Lands,” the elf argued, and Sakura could only laugh – a sound without humour. “Moriel would have undoubtedly been released from the Halls of—”

“So tell me why his heart stirs, even now,” Sakura said, resting an elbow on Glorfindel’s shoulder, peering across at the elf, uncaring as to the way Glorfindel stiffened as they continued exchanging words. “Though, on second thoughts, I doubt you would be able to divine the correct answer – which is this…”

“You—”

“Truly, the actions of an elf in love are quite easy to fathom – since upon leaving the Halls of Mandos, your precious golden lord clearly posed their master a question: ‘Where is Moriel?’” Sakura explained, relishing in the way two sets of grey eyes fixed upon her. _She really did have a terrible habit of playing with fire._ “And can you guess what Námo dearest told him, I wonder?”

“Námo dearest?” the elf choked out. “Have you no respect?”

Dimly, Sakura wondered how old she was in comparison to the Valar and Arda itself. She had lived through seven thousand cycles, sometimes living to an age beyond a hundred, other times dying before she hit her teens. “That does not answer the question I posed you, dearest elf,” she said, still smiling pleasantly at the annoyance before her. “Though the answer would be something along the lines of, ‘She is lost.’”

The elf continued to choke on something – of what, Sakura wasn’t entirely sure. All she knew was that the sweet siren’s song of sleep was beckoning to her once more. _Oh how she missed being an elf sometimes._ Sakura snorted, burying her face in those familiar golden locks which reminded her of days long past. _That was a lie. She missed being an elf all the time._

* * *

_Life #9000_

She could feel the eyes of everyone on her – or, more specifically, Aragorn’s eyes in particular. _Because the damned fool she loved so much that it hurt had declared his love so audibly._ Aragorn had known her since she was a small child, so there was no doubt he knew that Glorfindel and her – in that life at least – had never crossed paths. _And of course Aragorn would never be able to come to the correct conclusion on his own._ Nobody would be capable of that. Even Glorfindel wasn’t aware of everything, and he was probably the one who knew the most. _Well, aside from her sister, that was._

It was almost a welcome relief when the Nine came, and the chase began in earnest.


	6. he said I never left your side

_Life #5000_

“Nearly there!” Naruto proclaimed, all but skipping along at her side as they ventured onwards. The weather was growing colder with what felt like every step northward they took. “I’m gonna be part of the advance party,” he said, smiling no doubt at the thought of possibly encountering their third team member from their previous life. _Well, Naruto’s previous life._ Sakura had no idea which cycle that was for her, if she had indeed even been present. _There were far too many spent as Naruto’s teammate, and her dear blonde friend was too similar for most of those lives._

“I will be following up after you then,” Sakura remarked, wondering what sort of frozen hell awaited them as the chilly winds nipped at her nose and fingertips yet again. Sometimes she really wished she could use her chakra without speeding up her demise. _Cursed mortal bodies, and her cursed strength of soul which always wore out the forms in that world which she wore after Life Three-Thousand and its tragic ending._ “Do not let your guard down though, Naruto,” she warned, feeling a terrible sense of foreboding and, alarmingly enough, _familiarity_ the further north they ventured.

_Because the northernmost lands were under dragon rule, infested with descendants of those who had lived in the duration of both Life Two-Thousand and Three-Thousand._ She had defied time and space there, by being born in her three-thousandth cycle before she had died in her two-thousandth. Though she hadn’t dared to find her other self, knowing already that her past self would only care about death and killing. Sakura wasn’t delusional enough to have believed she would have been capable of listening to such a tale as her own in Life Two-Thousand. It was odd what hindsight was capable of. _And all the regrets it brought to the table._

“I’ll be fine, Sakura!” he said, and she could only sigh at the name she had borne for so many lifetimes other than the one she was in. There she was Lothien, though Lothien wasn’t all that she outwardly seemed. “You know what I’m capable of now – I was Hokage!”

“Indeed you were,” she murmured, thinking back on those many lifetimes where Naruto had achieved his lifelong dream. _And then promptly realised that paperwork was the bane of his existence._ A fond smile curved at her lips, the ghosts of a chuckle escaping her then, and she could only turn to the sun, not wanting Naruto to see as tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. _She was so very tired, and so very old._ Truly, she was weary of the world, tired of gaining everything only to lose it when the cycle came to an end. Naruto was but a child compared to her, and she reminded herself to be careful of sounding too condescending when trying to rein her dear friend in. He didn’t know that world like she did.

She had seen that world at its worst, when blood had been spilt, and she had been on the side of the enemy in her reckless hate which had long since subsided. Naruto had arrived in that world in a relatively tame time compared to the First Age, when dragons and balrogs had been the chief threats. That battle was long passed though, on lands sunk under waves, not to be seen again until the alleged final days were upon them.

Knowing her luck, and how her lives had gone so far, she would likely exist beyond that time, when everyone she had come to love was lost. She thought of golden hair, she thought of her sister and her father. _Both the father of Telpeniel and the father of Moriel._ Her heart panged at the thought, and Sakura rubbed at the spot, pausing there for a few moments before she continued walking.

“What’s the matter?” Naruto peered over at her, concern marring his expression, and she shook her head then.

“Nothing to worry over,” she said, sighing softly as she wondered just what she was heading towards. _Was there really anything but pain on the path she was travelling down? Was there even an ending to the road laid out before her?_ Sakura could only hope, but her hope, as proven over numerous lifetimes, was a precious, fragile, little thing. It was a wonder it had survived so long, but Sakura knew what it was like to be without hope. And so she wholeheartedly preferred to cling to that fragile blossom of hope.

Naruto didn’t look convinced, but then again he hadn’t believed her when she told him she had lived five thousand lives. She could hardly explain herself without involving the matter of her being a centuries old being who viewed him and his tendencies with a fondness reminiscent of a grandparent watching over their grandchild. She chuckled at the comparison, smiling then as the worry seemingly fled from his face.

In fact, her worry _for_ him was probably more of a pressing concern, all things considered. After all, he was to be the one who ventured off before her – where she couldn’t protect him. Then again, he was old enough by mortal standards to be responsible for his own safety. Sakura couldn’t help but worry though, given how she truly did want to enjoy this latest cycle to the fullest. _And what better way to distract herself from her love for a certain golden-haired elf than to think and build on a friendship with a blonde boy who had lived twice._ “I would be far more concerned for your own safety,” she remarked, bringing back some life to the quiet which had settled down between them. _Like there was an insurmountable distance between them all of a sudden._ In a way, Sakura supposed that was a rather accurate view. There was a distance between them, compared to her very first life, where they had both been so innocent and naïve.

“Sakura!” he groaned, pouting then, and Sakura could only snigger at the urge to poke those whiskered cheeks she knew so well. “We can still use chakra,” he said, heedless of the way she stiffened at those words, _because she couldn’t._ She was incapable of using chakra if she wanted to live to a decent age. “And I don’t think the rest of these people here can so—”

“Chakra doesn’t make you invincible here,” she warned, dark eyes clashing with the sky blue ones. “Do not make that mistake.”

“I know.” Naruto rolled his eyes at that, no doubt used to lectures from Kakashi on that very subject. _After he had become Hokage,_ or so Sakura vaguely recalled – she had watched him lecture too many times to be _unable_ to dredge up such a memory. “But those _orc_ creatures are super weak, so long as there aren’t too many of them.”

“There are other creatures, Anorion,” she cautioned, voice losing its playful edge, and she stared at her dear friend with the weight of her five thousand cycles behind her. “Older creatures from an age long past. Creatures whose strengths are on another plane compared to _orcs._ ” _Like dragons, like balrogs, though the latter were fortunately gone from Arda._ “You would do well to heed this warning – do not walk into the pass unaware of what could bear down upon you, else doom _will_ befall you and all hope will be lost.”

“Sakura?” Naruto stared at her then, a hesitant smile upon his lips, and Sakura felt dread weigh down upon her gut. _She wasn’t an elf then, so surely it wasn’t possible for her to speak of prophecies._ She was mortal, and it was just those worries which had come across in that confusing formal speech.

“Worry not about my words,” she mumbled, shoulders sinking. “Just be cautious when you venture ahead of me, so that we might meet again.”

“Neh, Sakura, is it me, or are you getting _more_ funny with your words?” he asked, and Sakura laughed. Truly she had lived far too many lifetimes speaking as a feudal princess would. _She’d had far too few elven life cycles._ She wouldn’t have minded a few more. _But then,_ she supposed, _the pain of leaving would only become that much greater._

* * *

_Life #7000_

She eventually walked into Imladris under her own steam, all the while cursing her big mouth as she wished the earth would just swallow her up already and free her from the intense grey-eyed scrutiny she had been under for the many days it had taken for them to reach that particular elven realm. The fire she had played with was on a course to burn her, and Sakura could only bemoan her lack of restraint when it came to the focus of her affections.

Not that he would know of it, if she had any say in the matter. It was cruel, no matter the depth of her feelings there, because she would leave him eventually – and elves only married once. Finwë was an exception. And so she couldn’t be selfish, and she couldn’t cling to him when only death after death awaited her in those lands and many others.

Familiar, distinct elvish architecture met her gaze as she entered the valley, hairs on the back of her neck still determinedly up on end as grey eyes remained fixed on them. Aravir at her side, she remained silent as the Lord of Imladris bade them welcome. _And the Lord of Imladris was unnervingly familiar to her, despite not having interacted much with the fellow before._ Sakura didn’t understand why, nor, frankly, did she want to.

Really, she wanted nothing more than to vanish on the spot – to disappear into the wilds with her chieftain at her side, but life was a cruel thing, or so she learnt as Elrond turned to Aravir and said, “Lady Galadriel heard of your coming here, and bade me to ask if your young companion would meet with her.”

Aravir blinked then. “Lady Galadriel is here?”

“Indeed.” He inclined his head, and Sakura barely concealed the flinch as yet another pair of elven eyes fixed upon her. There was curiosity in those eerily _familiar_ eyes – _where had she seen them before?_

“What business might she have with Glosuien?” Aravir asked, and Sakura remained gloriously blank-faced – the way only an elf usually could after years upon years of practice. _It made it excellent fun when someone unaware of that fact challenged her to a game of poker._ Dimly, Sakura wondered whether they had gotten around to inventing that game there as of yet. She didn’t recall ever having a game there, but then perhaps she had been too busy mooning over her ill-fated crush.

“I can hazard a guess,” Sakura said, feeling completely _done_ with subtlety at that point. Most things involving Galadriel were anything but, prideful and headstrong as her sister was. “Might I ask where she is waiting?” she asked, staring pointedly at the dark-haired elf before her, studiously ignoring the blonde one still at her other side _whose gaze was still boring daggers into her_. “I do not wish to keep her waiting too long.” _She knew she would only get more of an earful if she kept her ‘elder’ sister waiting too long._ Which was part of the reason she was acquiescing to her sister’s demand so easily. _And make no mistake it was a demand._ Sakura barely contained the eyeroll, the events of their last meeting still so very vivid in her memories despite the numerous years passed.

She stepped forwards then, and Elrond fell in step with her, leading the way to where her last family on that side of the Belegaer waited. Silently, she followed the dark-haired elf, grateful to leave behind the other elf she could never have, along with his discerning stare. Truthfully, she was grateful for the lack of conversation, caught up in the haze of worries and wonderings about what her sister wanted of her.

_Probably to get her on a ship to Valinor, but that was a bit of a moot point by that time._ Her body wouldn’t last much longer at all. In fact, she would probably be lucky to get out of Imladris before she turned to ash, and that would be it. Though it meant at least there would be no curious elves asking why she had burst into flames like Fëanor. _The one whose orders had resulted in her death in the kinslaying._ Her lip curled as she followed Elrond up the stairs, and into a large office – where a familiar figure waited.

She wore white, as she had so often, but rather than the tunic and pants she had favoured while exploring the many places of Aman with her, she was dressed in a long flowing dress instead. But her sister suited anything, much to her annoyance. Sakura, herself, had never managed to pull the same look off. _The red colour she had once loved so much no longer suited her original appearance in that world._ Though she didn’t half look dashing in it in her current form – a bold splash of colour amidst the monochrome style she had going on.

“Well,” Sakura drawled before Elrond could even speak a single word in greeting, raising an eyebrow at her last piece of family in those lands as she stepped further into the room. _But it wasn’t as though she was in those lands waiting for her, rather she enjoyed ruling over her golden wood far too much._ “You called?”

Familiar silvery grey eyes fixed upon her. _Her own eyes should have been an even brighter silver._ “There are ships waiting in the bay of Mithlond—”

“Are we really having this conversation here?” Sakura asked, cutting off her sister, earning a raised and slightly alarmed eyebrow from the dark-haired elf who lingered in the doorway. “Are you so eager as to have me banned from another elven realm when our tempers inevitably flare?”

There was a sliver of a wince which soon flashed upon her sister’s face, and Sakura delighted in it. Truly, they both knew the best way to get under each other’s skin – part of the package and parcel of being siblings. “If you would recall, you threatened to _burn_ my wood to the ground,” Galadriel said, neither of them paying attention to the elf behind them who was growing steadily more alarmed and confused as their conversation continued. _Though really,_ Sakura mused, _who wouldn’t be confused by their conversation without the context?_ She was Laethiel, Galadriel’s lost little sister, and it was that bond between them which always enabled her _elder_ sister to find her when she incarnated there. Though admittedly, there were plenty of lives where they hadn’t encountered each other properly. _Life Two Thousand being chief amongst them, considering her sister hadn’t been burnt to a crisp._ “And we both know you are capable of _burning_ trees down to cinder.”

It was Sakura’s turn to wince, what with Life Two Thousand being a painful blight upon her record. “We both know that remark was said only in anger, just as your declaration to ban me forevermore from your wood was,” she said, running a hand through her hair then. “Though what you inevitably seem to forget is that I cannot simply venture to Mithlond and request passage – or do you forget I am mortal now?”

“Indeed, it is a rather difficult fact for one to miss,” her sister said, and Sakura gritted her teeth at the insult almost hidden within that statement. “All the more reason for you to beg for aid, lest you wish to vanish once more from this world as you so often do.”

“My,” Sakura spat back. “It almost sounds as though you wish for me to move on yet again. Such cruel words for you to say, or perchance have you forgotten that I would be your dearest younger sister? Perhaps the effect of your age, or mayhap your inflated sense of pride is clouding your vision so?”

“Your tongue is as poisonous as ever, I hear,” Galadriel said, an equal amount of venom layered on the words there. _She knew Life Two Thousand was a terrible sore spot._ “Tell me, how do your other kin fare in the lands north?”

“Sister,” she spoke, a terrible fake smile which could put Sai’s to shame resting on her lips in that instant. “Do you really wish to talk about kinslayings?”

Silence fell between them, heavy and tense, and dimly, Sakura wondered when things had really started going wrong between her and her dearest sister. _Probably around the time she threatened to burn her sister’s home to the ground, but that was said and done._ Yet another something she could regret and nonetheless never take back.

“No,” her sister murmured, eyes haunted, and Sakura found herself wondering just how deeply her death and disappearance had affected her family. “I do not.”

Anger drained from her like a plug had been pulled, chakra surging beneath her skin, thrumming and on the verge of bursting out. _Her time was near._ She had enough regrets from her last conversation with her sister – though it really was more of Galadriel demanding that she head on to Aman, and her being obstinate and refusing. _Because she couldn’t sail. It was not her fate to dwell in those blessed lands._ She somewhat doubted it would ever be her fate to dwell peacefully in her once-homeland. “Tell me,” she mumbled, a soft, fond smile pulling at her lips then. “Did you ever figure out the answer to that riddle I asked of you so long ago?” she questioned, having never been able to forget that hint she had given to her second favourite sibling. _Finrod would forever be her favourite, what with her many memories of him tucking her in when bedtime came about for the young elf she had once been. He had sung when the nightmares and bad memories came, and often driven them off._

“No,” she replied, the anger having drained from her own voice too. “I never could quite work that one out. Truly, it seems that riddle is beyond me…”

A ghost of a chuckle left her lips. “Then let there be another hint,” she said, eyes glimmering with mischief and sorrow. “Though you were born before me, I am infinitely older, and each time I perish in this world, when I return, the disparity between our ages will only have grown larger.”

“Why must you always enjoy speaking in riddles?” Galadriel asked, and Sakura knew her sister well enough to discern she was rather tired of that matter. _Not to mention the enjoyment of such riddles was rather telling of the creature she had been in Life Two Thousand – and she doubted either of them wished to dwell on the memories involving that._ Sakura had ventured into her sister’s realm – she had seen the large painting depicting her slaying all those many moons ago.

“Because, dearest sister,” she murmured, hating the tears she could feel biting at the corners of her eyes as she recalled everything _before_ Life One Thousand, and the beginning of everything. “Sometimes the truth is far too painful to be told plainly.”

“You do enjoy being so terribly difficult at times, do you not?” her sister muttered, shaking her head then. “Will you not go to Mithlond then – even if I plead and beg this of you?”

Sakura shook her head. _It was already far too late to try any of that._ A wry smile curved her lips. “It would be terribly unsightly of you, and terribly out of character too, for you to beg and plead, sister. Your pride would not allow it so, and neither do I wish to see such a sight, as amusing as it might be.”

“Is it wrong for me to wish you safe?” Galadriel asked, and Sakura could only sigh once more as the circular argument began once more.

“My hair is dyed black along with my eyes,” Sakura muttered, closing her eyes to avoid the accusing stare which bore into her so. “You know why this is so, and you know why I cannot return to Aman with this blight still upon me.”

Her eyes widened then. “You know of your Doom?”

Sakura could only blink. _She had a Doom set upon her?_ Her throat was dry then, and she swallowed. “No,” she declared, shaking her head. “I do not think I would wish to—”

“There may be leniency should you decide to wait there until your Hour comes,” Galadriel said, stepping forwards then, fingers curling around her shoulders as Sakura only stared up at her in blatant confusion. _She hated being mortal and short._ “It cannot hurt for you to ask this…”

“Even if I was to sail there would be no point,” Sakura grumbled, so beyond _done_ with trying to explain things to her obstinate yet concerned relative. Her hands grasped at the ones upon her shoulders, gently pushing them away back towards their owner. “I am dying, sister, and not the way mortals often do.”

A crack snaked its way up from her collar, dark lines branching over her skin as she burnt from inside out, skin finally giving out under the weight of her soul as it was wont to do. It always onset so suddenly, though given her recent burst of chakra use she could hardly be too surprised at the end result. _She wouldn’t be making it out from Imladris before her untimely demise then, or so it seemed._ Sakura only sighed, shoulders sinking then.

“This body cannot contain my power so,” she said, gaze flickering to the floor. _She didn’t want to see horror nor worry upon her sister’s face as she crumbled to ash yet again._ “None of them can.”

Fire flickered out from one of the cracks set upon her skin, a roaring inferno burning in her ears.

“Until next time, sister,” she murmured, bursting into flames, silently lamenting the fact that the elves would have to clean up her remains desecrating the pristine office.

And then, rather abruptly, it was onto Life Number Seven Thousand and One.


	7. when you were lost I followed right behind

_Life #9000_

They arrived in Imladris – Rivendell in the common tongue – and Sakura felt sick to her very core. More so because she could feel those grey eyes boring into her like lasers. Glorfindel was staring, and he was staring at her. Aragorn was also staring, though undoubtedly for different reasons than the golden-haired elf.

The hairs on the back of her neck prickled up on end even as the three of them stood there awkwardly, the rest of the hobbits who’d arrived with them having vanished off to who knew where. Sakura would have been more than happy to try and figure out exactly where they had vanished off to, if only to escape that piercing stare. _And Aragorn’s undoubtedly questioning one too._ It was something to be said about the eyes of an elf and how very expressive they were.

But Glorfindel didn’t despise her so as she had so rightly assumed, and therein lay the problem. She was already dying, her end ticking closer with every minute passed. She was mortal then, and all too soon she would enter a haze of constant pain and eternal rebirth into a body which would break down at birth or even just before. _A cruel fate for the one who bore her, undoubtedly so._ Tears bit at the corners of her eyes, and old fear rising in the pit of her belly at such a thought. It looped back to the one eternal question she had – why? Why was she stuck in a cycle of constant reincarnation? _What had she done to deserve such a fate?_

“Ithilris.”

Sakura blinked at the name which wasn’t hers, glancing around briefly for any sign of an elleth with such a name, but there were none. She turned then, dark eyes meeting those grey ones which burnt with a passion and happiness Sakura knew she could never afford to reciprocate _because she was leaving._ She was always the one leaving her friends and everyone else she knew far behind, never to be seen again. “What?” The question left her lips before she could restrain herself from doing so, and Sakura could only curse her wandering attention as hands grasped at her shoulders, rooting her in place as he stared down at her so very intently.

“That is the name I have been pondering on for many a years,” Glorfindel said, thumb stroking ever so lightly over her cheek. “The name I give to you as but a token of my affections.” He smiled then, so brilliantly, so very beautifully, as though his inevitable loss of her wouldn’t break his heart so. She hated whatever was making her reincarnate so many times in that instant – whatever was the driving force between their inevitable separation – because truly, it was so very cruel to the ones left behind. _As well as herself._

“Glorfindel.” The word was choked out, sorrow and regret mingling like old friends in the pit of her stomach. “I am rather afraid I have yet to think of a name for you,” she said, smiling then – a weak thing compared to his own, lined with the sorrow of love and loss.

“Forgive me,” Aragorn spoke up then, and the pair of then glanced over at where he stood close by. “But I rather feel as though I might just be missing something here…”

A soft burst of laughter escaped her lips then. “You would not be the first,” she murmured. “Besides, it is a rather puzzling tale, even for those who have known me the longest…” Her gaze darted to the ground, and she longed to escape those stares fixed upon her then. “Should we not venture in?” she asked, tilting her head. “Or would you rather linger here for a while longer?” A smile pulled at her lips, and she walked forwards then, all but certain they would follow – if only to escape the lingering chill in the air.

“So,” Aragorn spoke, catching up with her just as swiftly as their elven companion. “I wasn’t aware you had both met… or that you…” he trailed off, glancing at her then, even as a hand grabbed at her own then, intertwining his fingers with hers then as he fell in step with her. Sakura rather hated the slight flush that crept up to her cheeks at the simple action. _It had really been too long since she had last seen him._ Part of her liked to liken his presence to a warm, fluffy blanket. _A taste of the home she would never have there._ A cruel thing to dangle before her, but Glorfindel was anything but cruel. He was as kind as summer. Sakura supposed that was just one of the many reasons she had fallen for him, and she hated herself all the more for that. By the time she had met him and fallen for him she had been accustomed to living, loving, and losing. She should not have fallen as deeply as she had. _But love was a terrible, intoxicating thing._ “Is that a story you would be willing to share?” Aragorn asked, and Sakura snapped out of the rabbit hole of her thoughts she had fallen down. “Here I was, thinking I knew almost everything there was about my younger subordinate…” A smile curled on Aragorn’s lips, and Sakura couldn’t stop the snort at that.

“The first thing you should know, my dear chieftain,” she said, glancing at him then, even as her beloved elf on the other side of her squeezed her hand in comfort. _He really did make it hard not to love him._ In fact, he made it so very easy for her to hate herself, her nature, and whatever was making her reincarnate so many times in so many different worlds. “The first thing,” she repeated, voice growing so very distant for a moment before another squeeze of her hand snapped her back to the present, “is that I am, in fact, older than you, if not in body.”

Aragorn blinked.

“We met long ago,” Glorfindel chimed in then, and Sakura could only smile at the odd gleam of mischief in his expression then and there, “in a white city…”

Sakura sighed. “I miss Gondolin,” she murmured, letting herself bask in the presence of the one she loved like no other. It had been rather lonely the last number of incarnations, what with her being so very hung up on her beloved who waited upon the shores of Arda.

Aragorn choked on nothing.

Glorfindel smiled, the sight making her heart squeeze, even as he took her by the hand and dragged her further into Imladris right then and there, leaving their flabbergasted and terribly confused companion behind. “I missed you more than our beloved city,” he murmured, and Sakura could only let her shoulders slump. “If only because I knew you would return to me. Though admittedly it was not too long of a wait for me,” he added, frowning then as he glanced down at her.

“Well,” she said, heart aching as it always did when she thought of leaving Arda – the only place she had ever incarnated multiple times within the same timeline. The only time she had been permitted to see the same person she loved over and over again through the ages. “Here I am…” she said solemnly, “though not for long…”

* * *

In hindsight, she probably ought to have worded, or at least minded, her words somewhat better. She would die soon once more, and then it would be off to Life Nine-Thousand and One. Glorfindel didn’t quite like to be reminded of that, and Sakura found it made him terribly clingy, for lack of a better word to describe it. She might have been clingy too, had she believed there to be a way to prevent her impending demise _and stay with him._ But alas, there was not, and she was far too tired to scramble to prevent the oncoming flames of her soul which would burn her _weak_ body so.

He was sat beside her, thighs touching, holding hands even as they sat and enjoyed their evening meal together. They had gone somewhere relatively private, likely for her sake more than his own, if only because after so many years of seeing her as a mortal and so many years of being without her, he had become somewhat less concerned with propriety and public displays of affection. Sakura didn’t particularly mind, but then again, compared to every other elf she was a being who had lived thousands of different lives, some of which had completely different rules when it came to what was socially acceptable.

“You told me last time we met that you had seen other worlds… that you did not solely reincarnate to this… how did you phrase it?” he mumbled, tilting his head as he tried to remember. “This plane? Or was it this world?” He nodded at that then. “That was it…”

“Do you wish for me to tell you a story?” she asked then, staring up at him, a wry grin on her lips as she did so. “You have always loved them,” she murmured, voice unquestionably fond, even as her mind drifted back to the tales she had told him when they had both lived in that white city. Ever he had been fascinated, but then Sakura supposed she had her own experiences to thank for her storytelling skills. Loathe she admit it, she had lived an _interesting_ life, if that was what one could call reincarnating thousands of times. _Sometimes she preferred to call it hellish instead._ It was no blessing, nor something easy to deal with.

“If you wish to,” Glorfindel said, and Sakura only leant against him then, staring out of the window in front of them, smiling at the sight of those familiar stars high in the sky above them.

“Let me see…” she said, pondering over what sort of a tale to tell him then. It couldn’t be one too boring or too tragic, she knew, what with her impending demise being only just around the corner. _Valier she was tired of it all by that point._ Though by that point it was probably too much to ask to be allowed to stay by Glorfindel’s side. “Shall I tell you another tale about a boy called Uzumaki Naruto?”

* * *

_Life #5000_

Naruto was sunshine.

It was why he had been named Anorion then and there. Sakura knew, like all good things, that sunshine would fade eventually, unless she somehow managed to bind both of their fates with that of Arda. But that wasn’t to be.

Tears bit at the corners of her eyes, even as she stared at those pale white cheeks – so very pale now that there was no more blood flowing through them. “I thought we would have more time,” she whispered, remembering only a matter of days before when Anorion had waved goodbye, what with him being in the advance group. The same advance group who had never returned. The same advanced group she had snuck off to find. She had briefly hoped she might find them alive and well, though perhaps trapped by the snows or something of that sort. But reality was a cruel thing, and Sakura could only stare at the bloodied corpses of the men she had seen only days before, healthy and well.

Now they were dead, corpses preserved by the cool climate of the Icy Pass they had entered into. _And the tracks of the creature which had killed them were right there before her, bloodied and set into the snow which still fell right then and there._ Her eyes narrowed, and she stood then, looking away from the bloodied corpse of her fellow reincarnation.

“I warned you,” she whispered, eyes feeling far too heavy and wet with tears. “But you didn’t listen,” she murmured, heart feeling so terribly cold and pained as her footsteps crunched across the pass. Part of her had already made her decision, she realised. “I suppose you must have come from one of those lifetimes where I didn’t intervene in your childhood,” she said, musing on the times when she had enacted what she liked to call ‘early intervention with the terrible child-rearing system of Konoha’. _She was allowed to call it that, what with having seen worlds with far better, more developed systems._ Dimly, she tried to remember the time she had thought there was nothing wrong with Konoha. It was surprising what living and dying thousands of times in thousands of different worlds could do to one’s views. “You always tend to trust and listen to me more when I get to know you sooner,” she murmured, a reluctant fondness to her words as she mused on her many past lives. _Cats really had nothing on her._

Her breath misted in the air in front of her as she walked onwards, chest feeling so terribly cold and devoid of warmth. She had walked on from Naruto’s corpse too many times to count. Either her friends left her, or she left them in an irrevocably permanent way. _She’d had hope maybe this time would be different, what with Naruto being reincarnated there too._ That wasn’t to be, and she was alone in Arda once more. Thoughts strayed towards a golden-haired elf and what he was doing right there and then. She rather hoped he was happier than her right then and there.

“Oh well,” she whispered, following the tracks of a creature she knew far too well, what with actually being one in one of her many past incarnations. _A dragon._ “I did try,” she said to the empty air before her as if it would make some sort of difference. It didn’t, though saying it aloud made her feel better for one reason or another. “I tried,” she repeated, an ice cold smile appearing on her face then at the sounds of movement ahead of her.

_How long had she been walking for?_

Sakura sighed, breath escaping her in a white mist, gloved hands tucked away under her dark cloak as a sudden gust of wind buffeted her. Her hood fell back then, an icy breeze kissing her skin as she closed her eyes, readying herself for the strain of using such a technique. “You just ruined it all,” she said, not sounding angry in the slightest, despite the icy storm which raged about in her chest at the sight of Naruto lying back in that pass, lips blue, frost coating his skin which had been a healthy pink the last she had seen of him. “So burn,” she said, uncaring as the dragon turned towards her then, acknowledging her presence so very slowly. _How very arrogant,_ was all she could think as her teeth bared in a grin which was as cold as hoarfrost. Black turned to red as her sharingan swirled to life, chakra humming in her eyes as the tomoe spun and spun, bleeding into a new pattern as they glowed an unearthly red.

_“Amaterasu.”_

Screeches of pain met her ears as those black flames appeared in an instant, burning away snow, revealing stone beneath, biting into dragon flesh and burning through that. The smell of burning flesh was far too familiar to her by then, as were the sight of those black flames.

She turned on her heel, not bothering to watch Naruto’s killer’s last moments, feet crunching the snow beneath as she walked away from the bonfire which she knew would burn for several days and nights. She walked away from the scene Elentir and the others would discover sooner or later. She walked away from those flames which had only ever been seen once before on Arda, even as a shadow was cast behind her, great and huge, and belonging to the form she had taken in Life Two-Thousand.

The shadow of Ancalagon the Black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been admittedly far too long since I updated this one - but that's mainly because I wanted to have the reveal of who Sakura was in Some Fall By Virtue done before this one for reasons. Then I sort of neglected this work and it got pushed to the back burner just a bit, but it's not dead - I promise, and I'll get around to writing more of it sooner or later.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!


	8. don't say a word don't make a sound

_Life #9000_

“Why is it,” the familiar voice rang out behind her as she stood in the middle of the small little lake, “that I so often find inebriated and in the waters?”

Groggily, she turned, well aware of the mug of elven wine she had left half-finished on the little dock which stretched over the little lake she had found there. It was a quiet place, free from the noises of the Hall of Fire. Her dress was already soaked. Sakura found she rather did not care a single whit in that instant. Glorfindel had seen worse all those years ago in that world. “I oftentimes forget you have never seen my end,” she mumbled, thinking of the fires which always burnt her from inside out. _She was annoyingly alike to the one whose orders had resulted in her death all those lifetimes ago in that regards_. Though he had been born originally with a fiery spirit. She had simply acquired one akin to that after her many years of existence. “I jumped backwards off a cliff before the waterside the last I saw of you…”

She could still remember that moment, even a thousand lifetimes later, black hair flying up past her face, a grin on her lips at the oddly freeing feeling she had felt in that instant, that blue sky high above her, bright and merry, a sharp contrast to how they should have been, given what had just been revealed. _He ought to have hated her after that announcement – after that proclamation of all that she had been once upon a time. He didn’t._ Therein lay the problem, because she wouldn’t reach adulthood in that timeline ever again. She would just about make it through adulthood in the Elemental Nations, where bodies were more robust – but eventually, even there, she would be crushed and turned to cinder by the weight of her own chakra. _A sad ending to her tale, yet an inevitable one._

“Must you speak of your death?” he asked, taking a seat on the little dock then, silvery grey eyes staring holes into her. “Must you be so carefree about it?” He sat there so very prim and proper, ever as regal as she remembered him to be. A smile pulled at her lips at those memories. _Nostalgic,_ that was how she felt. _Ever wishing she could go back to that white city and enjoy the days they had spent together there._

Sakura sighed. “Who says I am so very carefree about my impending demise?” she questioned, turning to meet those grey eyes which stared at her like they were trying to stare into her very soul itself. “I know my death comes swiftly, and I have accepted it – that is all there is to it. There is hardly a need to burden others nor weep of it… not when I cannot change its inevitability,” she said, waters sloshing around her as she walked back over to the little dock, waters reaching her waist as she rested her elbows on the wood and looked up at her beloved. _Her beloved who she would probably never be able to see again after this lifetime._ Her heart panged at the thought, mourning yet loving all those memories she had of him and her together. She turned then, smiling at Glorfindel, brow furrowing at the oddly stunned and _hopeful_ look on his face then.

“You do not know, do you?” he murmured, fingers reaching out to brush against her cooled skin. She leant into the touch almost instinctively, hating herself moments later. _Because she couldn’t stay, no matter how much she wished to._ “Your Doom…”

It hit her like a punch to the gut. _She had heard whispers from her sister of a Doom set upon her. She didn’t want to know it – didn’t want to know that she would never be able to settle there in that place._ “No,” she said, all the while dreading the thought of a Doom being set upon her. _Because they had to know she had been Ancalagon once before, and gods or the other beings who ruled over each world were never so very forgiving as a whole._ She pulled herself from the waters then, clothes heavy and waterlogged as she sat on the little dock.

“It is said the actions undertaken by you will be tallied when your hour comes… and that the choice between whether your fate will be re-joined or sundered from Arda completely will be decided then,” Glorfindel said, staring at her so intently then, fingers playing with her black locks then with an alarming amount of fondness and familiarity. _She had let him do the same long ago in a white city, ages before._

The breath that escaped her was slow and shaky then, her mind trying to figure out those words and their meanings, dread slamming into her with the force of a battering ram. _Because she had been Ancalagon – evil, and that would count to her actions being tallied._ She wasn’t good and perfect like Naruto oftentimes was. _Though she wondered if anyone could be perfect after going through what she had._

“You could become of elven kind once—”

Her hand covered his mouth, shaking then, even as her eyes glistened with unspent tears. “Please,” she whispered, viciously quashing the flames of hope which threatened to stir right then and there at those words. _He wouldn’t lie to her. Not over something like that._ He was telling her the truth. _Or at least what he believed to be the truth_. “Please – do not give me hope where there is none,” she begged, standing suddenly and turning on her heel as she hurried away. _Running away,_ part of her reminded, even as she hurried to get back to her rooms and away from the elf who made her wish she wasn’t as cursed as she was. _An elf who made her wish that she could stay there in that world forever and ever_.

Glorfindel couldn’t give her hope that she could somehow stay there forever and ever without crumbling to ash, crushed under the weight of her soul. She was hardly good and just. She had seen thousands upon thousands of worlds, fought on different sides in different wars, learnt many a new perspectives from it all. She had learnt all of that, and she was satisfied and ready for the inevitable end, when everything became a haze of pain and fire.

It was a shaky, miserable resolve. One which couldn’t afford to be shaken, even if it meant not spending as much time as she could with what had to be her one true love. _Truly, no one else had come close – no one else could evoke the feelings he could within her._ A kind of love which only ever happened once. _Or maybe her feelings had only grown because she kept on incarnating into the same timeline over and over again, seeing him again, from near or afar or sometimes not at all because those feelings burned._ They taunted her with something she had slowly learnt she would never, ever have.

_And she had accepted that much._

“Ithilris!” The sound of her latest, most recently acquired name clawed at her chest, and she turned, staring at her golden-haired ellon then. _How she wished she could cast off the stain upon herself and wear her own golden locks once more…_

She stopped then, feet bare as she stood in the midst of the flower garden she had happened upon on her route back to the peace and quiet of the room she had been given there. “What is it?” she asked, toes curling in the grass beneath them, knowing it would probably be better to hurry back to her rooms and hide away in there until she inevitably met her end. _It would only hurt the both of them, should they try to keep clinging to one another as they had the evening previous._

“I apologise if my words hurt you,” he said, as if her own weakness was something he needed to apologise for. Her stomach twisted then, and she turned to face him fully, looking down at the snowthorn blossoms.

Her shoulders sunk. “There is no need for you to apologise for my own weakness,” she mumbled, tensing then as she spied him walk closer from the corner of her eye. “I am dying, Laurefindelë,” she whispered, voice choked with tears. She didn’t quite understand why – she was well acquainted enough with death and dying. _But it would be the last time they saw each other._ She knew that fact deep in her heart, and it was that, she figured, which brought her such misery. “You cannot stop that any more than I can…”

“But you will return,” he murmured, eyes looking so very pleading and hopeful, and bitter tears burned in her own. “You always do… You are constant in that much, like the moon… leaving yet always coming back… always shining so very brightly before me…”

“Not this time,” she said, voice shaking. “A thousand lifetimes… Once in a thousand lifetimes – that is how often I incarnate in this world,” she remarked, heart throbbing as it beat in her chest. _She wanted to stay._ She hated the fact she couldn’t. Not even on her own power, after all the years she had lived. It should have allowed her to, what with how large and potent it was, more so when combined with her own intelligence and experience. But it didn’t. Rather, it was her own power which took that chance from her, crushing her body beneath its weight. _And a heavy burden that was to bear._ She felt so exhausted by that point in time, worn thin by all the lives she had lived, worn thin by all the times she had lived, loved, and ultimately lost. _Worn down by the fact that she would inevitably never be able to stay by the side of the one she felt she had loved and lost the most_. “It shortens my mortal life here, for this body cannot cope with the strain of my soul,” she explained, staring at those snowthorn blossoms then and there as if they could distract her from the truth she was laying before her beloved. A truth which was not pretty. A truth which would burn. A truth which he needed to hear and understand. _Things wouldn’t be like in the lifetimes before, where she had danced around the truth, longing for that which she knew she could never have_. “I barely made it to two decades in this lifetime…”

He was right in front of her in an instant, hands gripping at her shoulders then, and Sakura could only sigh softly, close her eyes, and lean her forehead against that warm chest of his. “No,” he whispered then, the word a broken cry, and her tears stained his shirt then, even as his arms wrapped around her then, enfolding her in his embrace.

“Yes,” she said, letting them stay like that for a few long minutes – minutes she so loved and cherished because she loved _him._ Not that she really wanted to admit that right then and there. She would soon be leaving him, so that would be such a cruel thing to do. “Do not cry,” she said, stepping back and brushing at his tears as best she could with only her hands. “This may be my fate, but it is not yours.” A smile bloomed on her lips, wide yet so very fake. _So very telling of the sadness which she hid behind the mask she had perfected over the many lifetimes she’d had. The same mask which was always so very shaky in his presence._ She had liked that about him – about them – that he was the one she could never hide from. “You should forget about me, Laurefindelë,” she whispered, thumb brushing lightly over the skin beneath his eye. “It will hurt for you less that way,” she added, backing away then as swiftly as she could, leaving him standing there struck still by her words, praying all the while that he would listen and accept them so.

_It was for the best – truly, it was._

**Author's Note:**

> SPORADIC UPDATES T_T


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